


Drop (The Game)

by MissGillette



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alpha Billy Hargrove, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Billy Hargrove Being Gross, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Morality, Explicit Sexual Content, Identity Issues, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Omega Steve Harrington, POV Billy Hargrove, Possessive Billy Hargrove, Rimming, Season/Series 02, Self-Lubrication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 42,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22935445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissGillette/pseuds/MissGillette
Summary: Billy has wanted a piece of Steve since spotting him on the school parking lot his first day. So when Steve flees the bathroom at Tina's Halloween party, distressed and about to drop, Billy does the only logical thing: follow the scent.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 144
Kudos: 1644





	1. I've Been Seeing All

**Author's Note:**

> The "it's bullshit" scene, but ABO style, hot n ready.
> 
> Not my first time at the ABO rodeo, won't be my last. This flavor of ABO has a scent trope and chirping/purring, so sorry if that's not your thing. The scent trope is emotion based, not actual smells, because that sort of ABO irks me. Male omegas can get pregnant, but that's only mentioned in very brief passing, nothing to worry about. Trust me, though, it was so very hard to resist writing Billy _that_ way. My phobia of pregnancy is the only thing that stopped that absolute madman in this fic. He really is gross here.
> 
> Billy is extremely morally dubious in this fic. No rape, no coercion, he's just fucking Goal Oriented, and his Goal is morally dubious lol. He also hates Nancy (also an alpha) with a fiery passion, so look out for that.
> 
> [@missraygillette](https://twitter.com/missraygillette) I tweet about things I'm working on. Come love these stupid boys with me.

This hick house, too small for the number of bodies and scents crowded into it, in this hick town almost takes the edge off. Almost. It’s going well, Billy thinks with Tommy H lighting a new cigarette for him. King of their little world, now, better and wilder than anything they’ve seen. New stooges, alpha stooges at that. Tommy H and a few other guys from the basketball team. You should try out, they coo. You’d be great, they beg. Practically simpering at his feet, a few beers away from crying ‘alpha’ to him. Billy snorts in a cloud of grey and considers it for one reason only.

Harrington… No, Steve, is on the team. Pretty little darling, so much fight and so easy to tear down. And Billy has been waiting since day one to get a piece of that. To really sink his teeth into something and not let go. He’d make a mess out of that little pistol, ruin that lean body for anyone and anything else, he’d bury himself so deep— 

Deep in the crowd, in the shadows, sharp sapphires watch Steve bob and weave his way through the bodies. Alone, without his alpha. The house is full, yes, and maybe Billy is the only one sober enough to catch it. The stomach-curdling sourness of an omega in distress. It doesn’t fit the rock music blaring, the movement of bodies practically in one with each other. But it fits Steve stumbling, muddling through with his fingers in his eyes. Trying not to cry. Trying to keep it together.

Ears straining, Billy knows he won’t be able to pick up the sad whine choking Steve even now. Billy traces the blurred path of Steve backwards, following that horrible stench back to the bathroom. Where his alpha lingers behind the slammed door, anger-rejection clinging to Steve just on top of his hurt. Billy isn’t even close enough to scent it. Just catches it on the wind. The front door bangs shut behind Steve, and then the crowd parts for Billy as he follows the trail.

He hasn’t been outside in a while. His chest is at least dry, now. Funnily enough, he slipped into that same bathroom just a bit before Steve and his alpha, stinking up a hand towel with the sweat, beer, and musk of him. Trying to clean up. Flicking his cigarette into dewy grass, Billy wonders if the towel is still in the bathroom somewhere. If Steve appreciated it at all before whatever happened came crashing down.

Billy is still hot on that trail, hands itching under his fingerless gloves. He doubts any of the alphas here could track such a mournful scent through the maze of cars on the narrow, suburban street. Too scent numb with abstinence talk and Jesus, too afraid of their bodies. Billy scoffs and passes his own Camaro, but Steve’s trail twists beyond that. Teeth aching, Billy growls and stalks on, finds the farther he gets from the house, the thicker the trail. Close.

Billy doesn’t recognize the car. Murky red, the only luxury car parallel parked on the street, wheels on the driver’s side sort of slipping into the dirt on the shoulder. But the driver’s window is cracked, just enough so Steve’s misery-rejected-lonely gushes out like a broken dam. It had burst inside the house, in the bathroom. Billy’s gloves whine when he clenches his fists, unable to hold back his own surge of rage-protect-take. This isn’t just a lover’s quarrel, a tiff.

Inside the car, mindless to his singular audience, Steve swallows horrible sobs behind his hands. Shoulders hunched to his ears and shaking whenever he allows himself a breath. Now his whimpers tickle Billy’s ears. Just barely on this crisp, Halloween night. The witching hours, if his watch beeping at midnight—November 1st—just now means anything. No, this isn’t a normal fight. Steve’s a few seconds of hyperventilating from dropping completely.

Billy tries the handle, finds the door isn’t even shut. The door swings open without a groan or hitch. Steve must have thrown himself into the one safe space his panicked instincts could find on short notice. Because he couldn’t make a scene in front of anybody who matters. It’s social survival that had him stumbling blind and choking on tears back to his car where he could be safe. Billy treads carefully, knows exactly what he would do to anyone invading his territory in such a fragile state. Max gets the worst of it all the time. But he’s not thinking about Max, or home, or school. His total focus is on Steve as he leans his right arm against the car body and reaches with his left.

He’s plenty sober to make his voice soft, to let some of the comfort husk it, when he murmurs gently, “Hey…”

Steve’s startle shakes the whole car, shocks whining, but Billy anticipates this. He doesn’t budge with his feet firm on the ground, right arm helping to stop the BMW from rocking. Steve flails, stares with wild eyes down at the hand holding his shoulder and then up black leather to Billy’s face. Recognition pinches between Steve’s eyebrows—the brief moment Billy’s stooges had talked shit to Steve while Billy was more concerned about eating up every inch of porcelain and beauty marks. The two on his left cheek begging for a kiss, how many more are there, how far do they go down…

A confused warble spills on bitten lips, voice broken and thick, and Steve tries to flinch away from him.

“What…?”

Ah, there is no danger of Steve attacking and defending his territory. He’s too twisted up in his head, has no sense of what’s his. Not with his alpha ripping the rug out from under him, sending him ass over teakettle into a drop. What had she said? What did she do? Billy gnashes his teeth to stop a growl, but it’s too much aggression anyway. Steve just recoils deeper into his car, practically trying to wiggle over the center console to get away. To hide, to protect himself. He’s hurt, he needs to get away.

Chest and stomach filling to the breaking point, Billy exhales hard to make it all go away. He can’t cradle the ember of his rage right now. It must sit in the back of his mind for now. He has more important things to deal with, specifically the omega scrambling in front of him with big, watery eyes. No shame as tears catch the street light and drip off a short jaw. Billy could just lose it.

“Hey, hey,” he says gently again, trying for friendly-curious instead of the spice of his anger. It works, if only a bit, because Steve stops trying to migrate to the passenger seat. A smile and then Billy tries, “Steve right? What’s wrong, buddy, what happened?”

Steve fights it for a second. Twists his lips into a snarl to not cry, to try and hold the wobble in his chin. But Billy just bends his head down more, knows he’s got that soft look that usually has omegas blushing, and then Steve crumbles all over again. It’s worse than Billy had thought, so much worse. He’s probably out of his league right now, never had to comfort someone having a total meltdown. Steve slaps his hands over his face again and turns towards the radio, uncaring of how the center console surely digs into his sides. His long legs fold up between the seat and the steering wheel, and he holds his breath, the tension inside him, between mournful gasps. He can’t even speak.

Billy shushes him and reaches for brown hair. A bit stiff from styling tonight, for his costume, but still soft from attention and care. Billy practically crawls in on top of Steve, sinks a knee into the edge of the bucket seat, but leaves one boot on terra firma. Steve might turn and snap at him, even now, if he feels threatened. He’s liable to do anything in a state like this. Even a mouse will turn and bite when backed into a corner. And Steve does flinch under his hand, slides his own down from his eyes to squint at Billy’s wrist and then down his arm again to his face. They’re not even that close right now, but Billy hopes the furnace in him somehow reaches Steve.

More friendly-curious, more butter and sugar in his voice, when Billy says lower, “You’re gonna be okay, you’re not alone, right?” He leans that much farther into the car, deeply satisfied when Steve just shivers instead of flinching away. “I’m right here, nobody’s gonna hurt you. I won’t let them.”

There’s a suggestion there. Not quite the power of a command, that would be disastrous right now. Just enough cloying honey to unwind Steve’s tension. Only slightly. He can’t undo what that prissy bitch did. Whatever she said. Only Steve can hash that out with himself. Encouragement, though? Billy has that in spades.

His fingers are sure and true when they pet through Steve’s hair. It’s a strain like this, because he still refuses to climb into the front seats with Steve. They should move to the back. Billy would be more comfortable in the Camaro. It’s more private in his backseats, all sunken and hidden behind the front ones. A bitch to climb in and out, though. That and Steve’s territory is a safer option for what Billy needs to accomplish. Steve’s four-doors will have to suffice. Ultimately, Billy would like to end up somewhere more horizontal, but… This will do for now until he coaxes Steve up from his drop. He can’t move the omega until then.

“C’mere,” Billy coaxes with a playful tug on Steve’s hair. Not to hurt. Just for play. “Get in the back with me and you can tell me all about it. I won’t let you go, okay? You’re not alone, I won’t hurt you.”

He can see the words float into Steve’s ears, watch as they take hold a little when doe eyes flutter. They’re hard again in a second, though, as something surfaces through that heartbreak.

Steve squints at him with wet eyes and croaks, “Hargrove?”

“Billy,” is the sugary reply, dazzling smile effective in rolling the stone in Steve’s eyes. “Call me Billy, baby, no need for all that macho shit here. Come sit in the back with me, let me hold you for a little while.”

Steve does flinch now, and Billy slips his hand from soft hair. The curl of his knuckles, usually for blood and rough things, is gentle along Steve’s jaw. He could see himself punching this face just as easily as he sees himself holding it to lead Steve into a kiss. A hundred, a thousand until Steve doesn’t remember anyone else. Until Steve doesn’t want anyone else.

Billy swallows hard, shivers just as hard. He needs to get a hold of himself. It’s not the easiest thing to do with the car choked with sourness. Poor, distressed omega. Heartbroken and torn to shreds. It could only be worse if someone had assaulted Steve, and what that bitch did isn’t that far off. He’s miserable even in his uncertainty, can’t stop crying for long. How long until he loses words again…

“W-why?” Steve sniffles horrible and wet, an ugly crier, and levels a defiant look Billy’s way. It won’t work, won’t keep Billy away, but it’s cute. “Why are you… here?”

“Call me a concerned citizen,” he drawls with his teeth not quite peeking out. He looks Steve up and down, knows what he’s about to say will make Steve buckle again, but says it anyway. “You smell like someone ripped your heart out and stomped on it. Maybe spit on it when they were done.”

Steve holds it together pretty well for someone whose whole world has just shattered into pieces. Billy doesn’t know much about Steve’s alpha, just remembers glancing at her, meeting her heavy glare, and then dismissing her. Just as weak as the rest of the competition here. She’s nothing. Means the world to Steve, swept up in her and with eyes for no one else. Affectionate at school despite her always, always pushing him away. Pushed him away tonight, too, and Billy grits his teeth at the thought.

But Steve? Steve is everything, perfect and lovely. A darling omega worth more than her neglect. Something awful curls in Billy’s stomach when Steve whimpers and turns his head away. Denying himself comfort. Punishing himself.

“Shhh, hey, hey, you’re okay, look at me.”

Billy doesn’t need any strength in his fingers when he catches Steve’s chin and turns his head around.

“That’s why I’m here, baby, I saw you leave all crushed like this. You shouldn’t be alone right now, you know?”

His thumb dares to edge that much closer to the pitiful pout in Steve’s bottom lip. How badly he wants to press to that seam, dive past sharp teeth, and feel the wet inside Steve.

“I won’t leave you alone, so come with me and you can get it all out.”

Steve’s next breath stutters over Billy’s thumb and the back of his glove. He needs to take them off immediately, is denying both of them the pleasure of scenting Steve with his hands and feeling every inch of him. Steve’s eyes flutter for a second, fat tears clinging to his lashes, and then he meets Billy’s eyes. Weaker, more delicate than their charged stare at the party. When the whole house had dropped away and even through cigarettes, pheromones, and beer Billy could pick Steve’s sweetness out of the room. Practically orbited it all damn night. Their paths crossing was inevitable, two heavenly bodies on a crash course towards each other. Not for destruction, no, but to meld together and make something new. Billy will give that to Steve, if Steve would just relax a little. Trust him a little.

If it takes Billy leaning the rest of the way into Steve’s space, invading it, commanding it, then he will. Billy’s foot left on the ground arches onto his toes to tip him those last few inches. One of Steve’s hands is flat in the passenger seat to keep him from falling over. The other grips the backrest of the driver’s seat. Billy doesn’t miss how long fingers sort of spasm on his approach, tighten in the leather when Billy closes off the open maw of the door. There is plenty of room to escape. Steve needs only to bolt out the passenger door and into the night. That’s not what this is. To trap Steve now well… That’s for later, when he wants it. Billy has to get him grounded first.

“Come on, pretty boy, I’m not here to hurt you. I just wanna help, get you centered a little. You’re breathin awfully hard…” Billy squeezes Steve’s chin, just enough to pinch, and Steve’s mouth drops open to pant. His lips are pink and obscene, and Billy has to keep his eyes up or he’ll do something terrible to them. “What’s a little comfort between buddies, huh? Lemme help you, baby, pretty please?”

Billy doesn’t have much more patience for this coddling and begging. He can only do so much to convince Steve this is right for him. Steve doesn’t know any better. Probably thinks all alphas are supposed to abuse him—like Tommy H and the rest, the bitch who’s abandoned him. Sensing an opportunity, Billy ignores the strain in his legs when he leans into Steve’s space, watches his hackles twitch out of reflex.

“Hush,” he purrs, suggestion so heavy that Steve’s shoulders sink instantly, doe eyes fogging up a bit. “I’m not like the others at school, okay? I know how to help you, Steve, I can help calm you down. That’s all I want, just a little bit of closeness. Doesn’t that sound nice?” Billy gives in, now, with Steve’s breaths still panting, and thumbs his bottom lip. “Just come closer for a second, I’ll show you what I mean. Humor me?”

His charm is in full force. Not some saccharin bullshit but sweetness straight from the cane. Syrupy and smooth, play nice, I won’t hurt you, you’re safe with me, trust me.

Steve swallows hard, the click of his throat making Billy’s teeth ache more, and then… he nods. Nods a few more times in Billy’s fingers and then slips back into the driver’s seat. His long doe legs swing around to drape out of the car, shoes on the ground. Billy slips back just as smoothly to give over that space to Steve. It’s Steve’s territory. Billy has no command of it—yet—and it tickles Billy when Steve brightens just slightly under his heartache. Respect goes both ways. Billy bets Steve is used to people imposing on him. Bow or break, omega. And oh how Billy will make him bend to the breaking point.

“That’s right, come here, you’re doing great,” Billy encourages as he curls, bends at the waist, back in Steve’s space. “Take a deep breath for me, okay? Big breath, all the way in and out, you can do it.”

Steve listens like a dream, probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Billy’s hands are at his shoulders, balance delicate because he doesn’t want to put weight on Steve. Yet. Billy’s thumbs pet through Steve’s costume. He wishes this would hurry along. At least to the point of Steve peeling the blazer off. It stinks of beer, rejection, and hatred. Billy stops his own hackles from rising only through sheer force, only because Steve is breathing deeply like he’d been told. Following an order, because it’s what’s good for him. Billy could just devour him, licks his lips at the thought.

“I’m gonna come closer, okay? I’m not gonna hurt you, Steve. Understand?”

Confused blinking, eyes only slightly drier, but Steve nods all the same.

That confusion spikes into Steve’s scent heavy at his neck when Billy offers his first. He still only has Steve by the shoulders, would love nothing more than to grip the whimpering omega by his hair and shove that straight nose into his neck. There will be a time for that, to overpower and overwhelm Steve with the want-need-take of his musk. For now, he just offers the slightest heat, safety and comfort. It’s worked perfectly in the past for omegas teasing a drop, and it’s reliable even in Shit Hole, Indiana. Steve only hesitates through that initial tang of confusion before the leather of the seat whines under him and he curls forward. 

Steve’s hands are unsure between them. They hover, Billy soaking up their tremble and heat at his hips. It’s probably where Steve’s hands are familiar on his alpha. Billy gives an encouraging rumble, a cousin of a purr, and grins into Steve’s hair when Steve finally, blessedly touches him. Skin on skin with Steve’s hands just above the waist of Billy’s jeans. Just like Steve needs. Billy has never been more thankful for his quick thinking tonight in slapping a costume together. Still, it’s only a chaste pressure, twitching whenever Billy adjusts his precarious position. Whenever Billy sucks in a breath. But it’s something. The tip of Steve’s nose is cold when it grazes a cord in Billy’s throat. He gets a whiff of an alpha’s affection all for him, and then he crumbles all over again.

Billy grunts when Steve’s arms go slipping around him, threading under his leather jacket. He’s shirtless still, happy with his choice tonight as Terminator, even though it’s almost as lazy as showing up without a costume at all. But Steve’s fucking blazer prevents the skinship Billy craves, that Steve needs right now, and he could just rip it straight off him. But he won’t, time is good to those who wait, and Billy exhales his frustration as Steve cries against him. Clutching at him and scrambling terrified nails into the small of Billy’s back, don’t let me go, please don’t leave me, I don’t want to be alone.

“Shhh, shhh, you’re okay,” Billy coos to him, blows cool air over the red in Steve’s ear. Such deep shame, such deep hurt. His lips tickle the shell when he murmurs deeper, “See? I just wanna help you, baby, that’s all. I’d never hurt you, Steve, never ever, sweet omega, that’s it…”

“Nancy,” he whines, presses his face flush to Billy’s neck and trembling with his mouth full of alpha musk. “I’m sorry, oh god…”

This isn’t how Billy wants it to go down. The backseats of Steve’s BMW call to him. So close and yet needing so much fucking maneuvering to get the omega back there. Billy rolls his eyes so hard he about gives himself a headache. It’s the only option at hand, he’s not going to sit here stooped and fucking up his back to bring Steve out of the drop. He allows Steve a few more sniffles, whimpering and whining as he still, still holds everything inside. That frustrates Billy more than the issue with the backseats. Who has been nurturing Steve? Does he not have parents, friends, someone to give him a sense of pack and affection?

When Billy tries to pull away and Steve digs kitten claws into him, Billy thinks he knows the answer to his questions. With dread like getting home late and seeing dad’s pickup truck in the driveway, Billy knows Steve has no one. It’s sobering, makes Billy stop in his tracks to let Steve reel him back in. Desperate for closeness, about to fall over the edge and submit to the drop that’s been clawing at him since slamming the bathroom door in Tina’s house. Steve clings to him like he’s just lost his mate, his anchor. And they’re too young for shit like that, regardless of Billy’s opinion on Nancy Wheeler. Doesn’t mean the omega in Steve knows any better, knows any difference. Sighing harder than he has all night, maybe in his life, Billy nuzzles the side of Steve’s head.

“I wasn’t trying to leave, Steve, I promise,” he purrs to the shell of Steve’s ear again. He relaxes, if minutely. “I just wanna make you comfortable, you’d feel better in your backseats, so lemme help you. You trust me, right? You know I’d never hurt you, couldn’t if I wanted to.”

Billy knows that’s a lie, but he believes it so Steve won’t pick up on it. He would tear Steve apart and then put him back together with glee. If only to pick out each glass shard of Nancy Wheeler inside him, flick them in the trash where they belong, and then lap the wounds until they healed. Until he could carve out new places under Steve’s skin and insert himself forever, so Steve will never want anyone else. It’s a heady thought, one he can see himself executing, and he distantly wonders how far away his next rut is. He’s usually a beginning of the month kind of guy…

A soft whimper at his neck, a nod, and then broken and hoarse, “Okay.”

The permission, the trust, shocks Billy. He startles under Steve’s hands. Those long fingers with a tremble pet at the fresh scratches in Billy’s back. An apology for the hurt. Billy accepts the offering and shows his gratitude with another nuzzle of Steve’s hair. Steve gives him a noise, something still awful and sad, but hopeful. It sickens Billy all over again to think Steve isn’t used to this. He’ll change that. Sure, he wants to break Steve open and take everything, make Steve his, but… This changes things a little. He’s never met an omega so uncertain, so unaware of himself. He could just kiss Steve silly, but not yet. Soon, soon, everything Billy wants is just on the edge of soon. How soon is now, though?

“Let’s get you up,” he coaxes, making sure to pet his hands over Steve when they separate slowly. “I’m gonna get in first, just follow me, okay? And take your blazer off.”

It’s Billy’s first attempt at giving Steve an actual order. No command in his voice, just the play of power between them. He watches Steve at school every chance he gets, knows Steve is a fucking brat at the worst of times, shy and self-conscious at the best. Still, he’s curious to see what Steve will do. Steve has no reason to obey him, doesn’t know anything about him. This is the first time they’ve even talked beyond the peacocking back at the party. Where Billy’s gaggle of stooges stolen from Steve did most of the chin waggling anyway. Billy can wish things played out differently as much as he wants, but he won’t soon forget big, doe eyes zeroed in on him and only him when their paths finally crossed. Steve didn’t even try to stop Wheeler from leaving him for alcohol…

Steve fights him, just a bit, when Billy actually tries to untangle them. Steve’s hands come slipping over golden flesh, but they cling to Billy’s hips all over again. So it takes some coaxing and petting, some shushing, to convince Steve this is best for him. Billy pulls out all his sweet nothings and sends them as paper planes into Steve’s blushing ear. From anguish, anger, or something a bit sweeter, Billy isn’t sure. Steve’s scent is still all over the place and distraught. He has brief glimpses of more normal flushes of scent, but they’re so short lived that Billy misses most of them.

Poor omega, he really is cut up about this. Would Steve even make it home in this state? Was his intention to just sit here and cry until he could drive? That would take more time than Steve knows. Billy is doubly glad he could not resist the hunger in him that urged him to track Steve down. Who knows what could have happened to the darling boy.

Billy warns, “That’s it, come on, watch your head,” despite the gentle hand he has on the nape of Steve’s neck. “I’m right here, I’m just gonna get in the backseats, okay? Look at me, Steve, I’m not leaving you, are you listening?”

Wet eyes pick themselves up from staring somewhere near Billy’s chest. They’re toe-to-toe just against the BMW. The party back up the street is still hoping, no concern for school tomorrow. This would be the moment Steve clears his head and decides this is a bad idea. It’s the fresh air not choked with their scents that’ll do it. Billy pauses here to give Steve a fighting chance. If they end up in the back of the BMW, Billy will lay the path forward to devour Steve just like he wants. This is Steve’s last chance to climb aboard a lifeboat or let Billy sweep him down to the depths and drown him, consume him. With Steve slumped against his car like this, head always bowed around authority, Billy almost looks down at him. It’s a thrilling sight to watch emotions flicker over that open book of a face. Considering. Weighing everything against the anguish tearing him apart.

“Steve?”

His name attracts Steve’s eyes to the lips that have spoken it. Steve startles in the warm pocket of their bodies, shivers hard, and then nods. Craning forward without pause, Steve hesitates so tender and shy for a second before brushing his cheek over Billy’s. And Billy likes to think he can feel the two beauty marks on Steve as their skin grazes together. He gives Steve an encouraging rumble, good job, good boy, and then nuzzles him right back. Billy’s hands ache anew and fresh for Steve’s body, and they’ll have their fill.

Billy steps away faster than he should, breaking them apart and sipping the bitter abandonment that floods Steve. Steve will just have to follow him, behave, to get the affection he needs, won’t he? Billy just keeps intense eyes on the omega as he yanks the back door open and slides in. Shoves his leather jacket off as a second thought. To soak himself into Steve’s car and seats. So Steve will have all of him to cling to once he gets the omega in his lap. Billy is all molten eyes on Steve when he sits with his legs spread wide in the middle seat. Come hither, Steve, what you need is right here.

And Steve comes as Billy bids him, a puppy and his boy. The corners of Billy’s lips curl devilish and pleased when Steve crawls, confused, across Billy’s lap. Like he doesn’t know what to make of their positions, how this is supposed to work. They’re in, Steve’s shoes clear of the door, and Billy tugs the door shut. Somehow, Steve had remembered to close the front door, too. They’re alone together in the close quarters of the BMW. Plenty of room to scoop Steve up like he wants and settle the omega over his thighs, straddling him.

Billy is mindful of Steve’s height and the roof of the BMW. To fit, Steve has to bend his back and stoop down. Perfect. Steve flushes, this time embarrassed, but Billy runs his hands up the sleeves of the stupid blazer. He plucks Steve’s sunglasses folded into the collar of his black t-shirt and tosses them behind him up, up near the brake light. Steve pouts as they go, still shuffling unsure in Billy’s lap, but Billy tugging at the lapels on his blazer reels in Steve’s attention.

Nodding to the black tweed in his fingers, Billy murmurs thickly, “Take this off.”

He thinks for a split second Steve will frown and ask why. Bratty. A twitch of a frown ghosts over Steve’s brow, but it has no staying power. Nervous and shuffling still, almost rubbing them together, Steve nods and does as he’s told. Billy drops his hands to give Steve room to work, leans his head back and lets the rumble of his pleased noise fill the inside of the car. It tickles Steve’s ears, he knows because Steve shivers and hunches his shoulders up. Billy takes the time while Steve shrugs out of the blazer to free his own hands from his gloves. They end up thrown over his shoulder with Steve’s sunglasses. With the exception of Billy’s jeans, he is bare for Steve’s eyes and hands. Anything.

Bold, edging into too bold, Billy’s hands settle warm and heavy on the tops of Steve’s thighs. The jeans look good on him, hugging between his legs in an obscene way. Not yet, not yet, but soon. Steve jumps and almost bumps his head into the roof. Billy shakes them with his chuckle, winds it down slowly when Steve dumps his blazer on top of Billy’s jacket, glances to Billy when he’s done. It leaves Steve in his jeans and a black t-shirt. So much uncertainty in those big eyes. But at least Steve isn’t crying anymore. Well, at least not right this second. He’ll start up again when Billy presses for details.

“Now,” he begins from the bottom of his throat, “why don’t you tell me what the ice queen did to you to upset you so much.” He pets Steve’s thighs even as doe eyes well up all over again. “Must have been pretty bad, huh?”

Steve doesn’t know what to do with his hands and so splits his frantic energy between playing with his fingers, biting his nails, and then pulling on his hair. None of this is very becoming behavior, especially Steve pulling on his hair. Just punishing himself again. Sucking his teeth, Billy adjusts himself under Steve and then reaches for thin wrists. Steve fights him by tugging in Billy’s grip, whining, but Billy wins him over with harsh squeezes. Just enough pain to convince Steve to not do that again. Billy soothes the grinding of bones by guiding Steve’s hands to his shoulders. It feels good, right, to have Steve hold on to him like this. That done, Billy is quick to reach for Steve’s crumbling face and cup his cheeks. He’s warm to the touch. Alive.

Sniffling wet and ugly, Steve tries to shake his head between Billy’s hands. Either as a refusal or maybe to shake Billy off, he’s not sure. Billy just shushes him and thumbs fat tears away.

“Hush Steve, you’re okay. You trust me, don’t you? I’m not gonna hurt you, baby, just tell me what happened. I’ll understand.”

Lips trembling, Steve grinds his teeth and manages a broken, “It’s bullshit.”

“What is?”

Billy gives Steve just enough leeway so that the omega can tip his head back and stare mournfully at the roof. His nose is a safe distance from the upholstery, so Billy lets him. He’ll drink his fill of Steve’s sorrow no matter what, from any angle. Steve cannot hope to hide the misery pouring out of his neck. Billy’s fingers tingle like a shock to press into the hollows of Steve’s throat and milk his pain for all it’s worth. To rub it between his fingers and then paint Steve in his own sorrow. Steve collects himself, though, and Billy has to rush those heated thoughts out of his head to hear.

“Me, us, everything? She just…” A hard buck of Steve’s body, a sob trying to rip through him, and then he says more pathetically than before, “‘Like’ we’re in love. She doesn’t love me.” Steve draws in a ragged breath and then lets his chin fall into his chest, mindless to how his tears slide hot along Billy’s hands. “I don’t think she ever did…”

It doesn’t make much sense to Billy. He’s not getting the whole story, but Steve has given him the important bits. Wheeler must have said as much. Steve’s blubbering words sound too much like verbatim. Billy had been present for the party foul. Watching a sloshed Wheeler tussle and deny Steve trying to take care of her and then spilling the Solo cup all over herself. Watched her snap at Steve full of scorn and then storm off, Steve hot on her trail. Just trying to take care of his alpha, trying to make sure she was okay. Oh, to be a fly on that bathroom wall. If not for Tommy H, Billy would have been close behind to snoop. But oh well, it doesn’t matter. He has Steve, now. That’s all he cares about.

Billy petting Steve’s tears away doesn't do much anymore. Not as his narrow shoulders finally buck and hunch with his cries, even though Steve tries to at least keep quiet. It’s speaking the words aloud that’s undone him. It’s what Steve needs. Needs to sort through what happened and feel the anguish his alpha caused. Billy shushes him despite everything and gently guides Steve forward on his knees. They’re in each other’s breathing space when Steve picks his head off his chest enough to meet Billy’s eyes. Billy has never seen something so heartbreaking. It’s a bit like watching California in his rearview mirror all over again.

“Baby,” he whispers perhaps more tenderly than he means to. Billy shakes his head when more tears well up, and he says further, “How could she treat you like that? Like you didn’t love your alpha with all your heart?”

It makes his stomach boil to admit Steve’s love, but it must be done. Steve may not catch the ‘didn’t’ part, but Billy means it that way on purpose. Billy allows Steve a moment or two to whimper in his hands and sort through this new revelation. It shouldn’t be too hard to open Steve’s eyes to the neglect he’s suffered. Billy won’t have to lie or even fucking embelish. That’s the fucked up thing about all this. Steve is not entirely an opportunity kill. Billy happened upon him limping along, wasn’t even the one to commit the finishing blow! Billy almost huffs out a laugh, but he thinks better of it when big eyes seek his again.

“Pretty pathetic, huh?”

“Not at all,” Billy says hotly, but not unkindly. His hands cup jaw and cheek fully until the hollows in his palms fill out. “It’s never pathetic for an omega to love his alpha so deeply. You’re perfect, Steve, so fucking perfect.” Billy peels a hand away only to pet through the wave of Steve’s hair. “She doesn’t know what she threw away, didn’t deserve you in the first place. You know that?”

Eyes closing hard, Steve shakes his head. Not there yet.

Billy tugs him that much closer and down to draw lips over Steve’s forehead in a not-kiss. No, just a drag of his lips to give Steve this intimate affection. He needs it, probably craves it and isn’t even aware. Ignoring it to survive, because what other choice has anyone ever given Steve?

His parents are either emotionally or physically distant—Billy dreads to think both. His friends have not stuck with him as they’ve aged, and Steve flittering between partners and then ending on Wheeler… Billy isn’t sure if anything worse could be done to an omega. Except total isolation. Steve must have felt that in the moment Wheeler stuck him in the chest with her harsh words and left him to stumble along and die in the cold. 

“Look at me, Steve. Come one, eyes on me, that’s a good omega…”

Steve flusters every time that word comes riding the purr out of Billy’s throat. Billy must take care not to lay it on too thick. Steve isn’t used to it. Probably had called Wheeler ‘alpha’ in passion one time before she shut it down. Billy can just imagine it, and he has to clear his throat to push back his rage. He can’t let it slip into his neck, the air between them already so choked. Steve would smell his rage and think it was because of him, would cower away. And Billy would have to start over after coming so far.

Billy plays it risky when he bumps their noses together. Not even faking to steal a kiss—Jesus no it’s too early for that. And Steve perks up a bit, manages to swallow another whimper and quiet the rest after that. Warm eyes blink at him, almost having to cross to do so, and Steve bumps him back. Blue eyes blink up at Steve as Billy loses his next words. He gathers them back when Steve breaks their stare. Billy tsks while nudging Steve’s jaw, demanding his gaze right back up.

“That’s what I like to see,” Billy says more to himself than Steve. “Steve? Can I tell you something important? Real fuckin important that you need to know. About you and what you deserve, what an alpha should give you. Will you hear me out?”

Steve’s hands at the shelf of Billy’s shoulders squeeze. A whiny grunt from Steve, let me down, and Billy drops his hands from Steve’s face. A shiver runs wild through Steve, but he works it out. Still practically rubbing them together, but Billy lets it go. Steve isn’t doing it on purpose, isn’t even aware of his body for the most part. He is heavy in Billy’s lap, the weight of a boy lean and fit. It’s a pleasant weight, and so Billy welcomes them chest to chest.

Steve is warm cotton on his skin, and then Steve’s head rests on his shoulder. Steve has to curl up even more in Billy’s lap, but he does it for comfort. Billy smothers a hand in Steve’s gelled hair and coaxes the omega where he belongs—nose finally buried in the affection-accept-protect pouring out of Billy. 

A gasp puffs over the base of Billy’s throat when he begins, “Alphas are supposed to love and protect their omegas, no matter what. We aren’t supposed to ever hurt you, not like this. Never scold you when you don’t deserve it, especially not in front of so many people.” Billy sighs, knows Steve probably doesn’t see it that way, probably blames himself, but Billy powers on. “We’re supposed to nurture you and make sure you have everything you need, support, touch, anything. We like holding you and cuddling you, want you to approach us whenever you need it. I would never push you away, Steve.”

Steve shudders, presses his face hard to Billy’s neck, and then mumbles, “But-but she didn’t like being that way with me.”

He means affectionate. Excusing all the times Billy had seen Wheeler deny Steve again and again. And that was only at school, who knows how she is behind closed doors. That and her scolding him like a child instead of treating him like the equal he is. She never saw him that way. More of a pet than a partner, and now she’s done playing with him. It’s how Billy sees it, doesn’t care for what the truth is. Wheeler hurt Steve and threw away something so good and perfect. She’s a fool.

“Then she should have told you in private, worked something out. And if she couldn't give you what you needed, then”—Billy shrugs, hugs Steve tighter—“she should have done the right fucking thing and let you down gently. Not in the middle of some shitty party while she was drunk off her ass. She never thought of your feelings at all, Steve. She only thought about herself.”

Steve curls up tighter in Billy’s lap, but he makes no move to lift his head from the alpha’s neck. He just keeps sucking in stuttered breaths, trying to keep them calm and even. To match Billy, actually. Billy catches on to him, holds his breath and then smirks when Steve wiggles on top of him, huffing when he loses the rhythm. Billy stops teasing him, lets the amusement creep into his neck, and then picks up petting Steve’s hair. His other arm slung around Steve’s hips urges him closer. To relax and slump his weight into Billy. It’s okay.

Turning his head towards Steve’s ear, his face hidden away, Billy murmurs, “If you were my omega, you would want for nothing. I’d give you everything you need, Steve. You’d never be without, you hear me? Never.”

It’s a gamble to be so honest. So brisk and bold. Either Steve will be okay with it, or he won’t. And if he won’t, then Billy will have to come up with some other way to make Steve his. It would just be nice if the universe would give him one this time. Just this once. It’d royally fucked him over and took California away from him. Could it at least give him Steve? Is that asking for much? Steve is stone still and only moves to breathe, so Billy has probably fucked this up, too. Sighing, Billy scratches his fingers one last time through Steve’s hair and then moves to nudge the omega away.

A tiny whine, barely a noise, tickles Billy’s throat. Steve shifts that much closer, having to slide his knees farther apart and actually seat his ass on Billy’s thighs. Billy takes his weight like it’s nothing, because it is nothing, and Steve settles fully against him. The space between their chests and bellies snuffs out entirely, only the cotton of Steve’s shirt separating them. And Steve is slightly chilly to the touch, shivering again despite Billy hot all along his front. Humming, Billy nuzzles him hard, getting a small coo out of Steve, and then shakes his hands free.

When Steve tenses in his lap, Billy murmurs, “Hush.”

It’s the magic word, gets Steve all pliant on top of him again. Billy nuzzles him as best he can while he throws his right arm out, pawing at his own jacket under Steve’s blazer. He shakes it free and mounts the awkward task of using just his right hand to cast the leather over Steve’s back. Steve startles at the graze of leather, but Billy gets a grip on it with both hands. Finally, he drags the collar over the back of Steve’s neck, draping the jacket as best he can. Steve, darling omega, does Billy one better and sits up, shy and avoiding Billy’s wide eyes, and actually clutches the open halves of Billy’s jacket around him. He doesn’t thread his arms through the sleeves, but like this with one hand keeping the jacket closed, Steve nestles himself back to Billy’s chest. 

Billy cannot help the deeply pleased rumble in his throat. This is exactly what he’d been talking about. Steve welcoming himself to the comfort and affection he needs. It’s what alphas provide, what Wheeler should freely give, actively want. Billy huffs to work out his frustration and returns his hands to their rightful places on Steve. Just as before, Billy’s right arm snakes around Steve’s hips. His left hand finds soft locks and cradles the back of Steve’s head. Like this, he can hold Steve until the omega finds his center again and steps back from the edge of his drop. Billy holds him tightly for a moment, squeezing and soaking up Steve’s whine, and then loosens again.

“Are you still with me, baby? Your breathing slowed down a lot.” Billy tries to nudge hair out of Steve’s eyes to see him, but he’s unsuccessful. “Tired?”

Steve nods on his shoulder, cranes his head that much closer to nose at Billy’s neck. And Billy gives it to him, turns away to allow Steve as much access as he wants. Normally, Billy would never offer first. And not twice in a row. And definitely not without Steve giving his neck, too. But he won’t force the issue, won’t ask Steve to return the show of trust. Billy has nothing to lose and everything to gain by submitting first. So it’s nothing to bare his neck to the omega. It’s nothing until it isn’t.

“Billy…”

He has perhaps never heard his name so soft, so shy from someone’s lips. Like he wasn’t meant to hear it. But blinking eyes open—when did he close them?—Billy gazes in the dimness of the car and turns to his left to answer Steve.

And finds the long, pale column of the omega’s neck. Waiting. Pulse fluttering under a mole, like just before firing all that porcelain someone had dripped black glaze on him. Beauty marks dot in random places, splashing and clustering until they disappear under the jacket’s collar. Again, Billy finds his teeth aching for the press and give of flesh, wants to know with deep hunger how far down Steve’s marks go. If he can trace meandering paths between them, where the dead ends are.

Exhaling louder than he thinks, it’s Billy’s turn to swallow hard, throat clicking like a gunshot in the silence. Steve isn’t crying or hyperventilating anymore. He is strangely calm, although Billy only holds that thought for a brief second before he realizes what Steve is doing. Completely slack on top of him, only moving to breathe, and the sweetness of his tired-trust-comfortable starting to choke the air. Steve could not be any louder about his submission. Steve has no reason to do so, they’ve only just met, and not under the greatest of circumstances. If Billy were anyone else, he might pause and ask if this is what Steve wants. It would be easy. 

He doesn’t do that. Doesn’t hesitate beyond that first moment of awe to nose his jacket away from Steve’s neck and rub his lips over soft skin. Steve finally moves, but it’s only to shiver and suck in a delicate gasp facing the window. Billy wants to lift his head and peer at their ghostly reflections in the glass to see if Steve’s eyes are open, if his lips stay parted with each touch. But he doesn’t, could not tear himself away from Steve even if he wanted to. Which he would never, is thrilled and almost purrs with his lips petting over Steve’s pulse. Cheeky, risking it all, Billy laps a single kiss to a hollow in Steve’s throat, swiping over a scent gland directly.

That gets the shock and coo he wants, Steve tensing hard against his chest and rocking them a little. Ah, but it’s all worth it to have Steve shake on top of him, clinging to Billy’s skin with his free hand. To have a bolt of bright arousal cut through that sensitive dip in Steve’s throat… It sends Billy shivering, shuffling under Steve’s weight. For friction, for relief of friction around his cock, he’s not sure. Billy can’t think straight with the taste of him dripping like honey down his throat. The headiness of an interested omega thick in his nose. His every sense is Steve, and Billy cannot stop how his right arm tightens at Steve’s hip and drags them hard together, almost grinding the fronts of their jeans. His left goes tight in Steve’s hair, maybe stinging, but Billy likes to think Steve’s whine is because of the other kisses Billy suckles to his throat and not that.

Steve shudders hard when Billy’s kisses reach the hinge of his jaw, just below his ear, and Steve breathes, “Har-Hargrove…”

“It’s ‘Billy’ baby, I told you,” Billy murmurs to Steve’s ear lobe, catching it in his teeth for only a second. “Lemme hear you again, say it right this time.”

He drifts back down the pale expanse of Steve’s throat, slower down than when he’d gone up. These kisses have teeth behind the suction, careful to not bruise or mark. Just exciting, teasing Steve with what he could have. All he needs to do is say yes to Billy, and Steve will be his. The last clutch he had in California seems so long ago. More depressing than gratifying, knot barely catching in his, well, now-ex boyfriend. They knew neither could wait until Billy’s return—not even a sure thing.

Steve isn’t anything like he had in California. Steve is something he will jealously guard, not sharing the omega’s affection, steamrolling anyone who would dare hurt him. Billy growls with his teeth pressed to Steve’s pulse, not biting but holding, and Steve coos under his lips.

“Billy, Jesus…”

Billy gives the barest tug, and then lets go to whisper heavy in Steve’s ear, “That was so nice, baby, hearing my name like that.” A kiss to the lobe, quiet to not startle him. “What a good omega you are, huh? Treating me so well, offering your throat all pretty like this.” One last kiss, just to feel Steve shake in his lap. “I could spoil you, baby, spoil you rotten if you let me. Let me take you back to your house? Let me show you?”

Billy’s hand on Steve’s opposite hip squeezes despite the awkward grip. It only works because of how wiry Steve is. He needs an answer out of Steve sooner rather than later. Steve certainly can’t drive himself, and although Billy doesn’t exactly want to leave the Camaro here… He can deal with it later. Hopefully it doesn’t get towed. If it does, well, Steve will owe him a favor after tonight and can pay it back by driving Billy to the impound lot. Steve might even feel guilty enough to pony up the cash for the fees. Who knows.

Still shivering in Billy’s lap despite his kisses stopping, Steve mumbles, “Um…”

Billy’s excitement falls a bit, already predicting the rejection. He’s gone too far or too fast, something. Maybe Steve stepped back from his drop earlier than Billy anticipated and actually has a clear head. They shouldn’t rush into something on the cusp of Steve’s abandonment. It’s dangerous. It won’t stop Billy from chasing what he wants. No, if Steve doesn’t stop him right now, then Billy will march on full steam ahead. The silence lingers, though, and the longer it sticks around, the more Billy is sure it’s over.

“Yea baby?” He asks, almost forlornly. “What’s on your mind? Lay it on me.”

Steve squirms, still huddled tightly to Billy’s chest, when he murmurs, “If you um… If you come over, will you stay?”

Steve’s face is still turned away to the window, so Billy doesn’t bother hiding the way his eyebrows come together. ‘Stay’ what does that mean? Billy has no intentions of giving up on Steve after tonight. Even if Steve wakes up tomorrow for school and curses Billy’s name, promises to extract his revenge, Billy will still want him as fiercely as he does right now. Steve is his, will be his no matter what. Billy huffs in his neck, tempted to kiss again, but instead draws his nose over moles.

“Gotta be a little clearer on what you mean by ‘stay,’ baby. What do you mean by that?”

Steve bears his weight that much heavier on Billy and whispers roughly, “Stay until morning. I don’t like waking up alone.”

Billy is thankful Steve still cannot see him. He stares into the comfortable darkness of the car, not wanting to fuck himself over and actually believe Steve is saying yes. Beating around the bush, but saying yes. 

Licking his lips through a few aborted sentences, Billy settles on, “Of course. Of course I can do that.”

He turns his head to mouth a biting kiss over Steve’s pulse, pleased when the omega whines and shakes hard against him again. That bolt of arousal sizzles even now, bright on Billy’s tongue and electric in his nose. 

“Tell me,” he pants, head spinning full of Steve. Billy’s hands turn mean on hip and in hair, but he needs to hear it. “Tell me you want me, Steve. I wanna hear you say it, tell me what you want, lemme hear those pretty words.”

Steve just shakes in his hold, not like before with tears fresh on his face, but something else. And Billy doesn’t miss how Steve’s hips shake where they’re pressed all along their fronts. If Steve is hard, he can’t feel it. Billy knows he is, wants nothing more than to press the burning line of his cock to Steve’s bare skin. Look what you did. Take responsibility and be a good omega for me…

Like the coo of a dove, Steve’s voice going high and trembling with nerves, he breathes, “I, um, I want you, I don’t-I’ve never with a… guy…”

“That’s fine, baby, don’t worry about a thing,” Billy says all sweet to him, devilish grin just for himself when he blows cool air in Steve’s ear. “I’ll be sure to go real slow and let you feel everything. How long has it been since someone knotted you, huh?”

That’s Billy taking Steve by the hand and dragging him to jump off a cliff. They’re in the thick of it now, no use playing coy. Steve’s whole body kicks, and his whine is broken and needy. No more sorrow, his abandonment set aside for now. 

Steve squirms that much more, maybe meaning to rub them together, when he admits, “N-never, um…”

“What?”

Billy doesn’t mean to snarl that. Doesn’t mean to let his teeth out, to sit up, to tear Steve up by his hair and stare at him. He knows his eyes are too bright, alpha fury coming out in that single growl. He’s mindless to what he’s doing while the rage washes over him refreshed and hotter than ever. Narrow shoulders hunker up by Steve’s ears, protecting himself, and he can barely meet Billy’s burning gaze through the darkness. Billy shakes him by his hair, forgetting himself, and Steve whines. 

“No one’s ever…” Billy can’t even finish the sentence, has to shake his head and glance around like this is a joke. “The ice queen never? Really? What about your heats?”

Billy dreads the answer like a stone in his stomach, but Steve shakes his head. 

“She… doesn’t like how her body changes during a rut. How it makes her feel, so she’s on um suppressants and a bunch of other things. We’ve never-I just spend them… alone…”

Steve shuts down gradually as Billy’s face twists harder and harder, ugly red pooling in the center of his face. He’s about to explode, about to tear himself out of the BMW, find that fucking bitch and—

A whimper. A terrible thing, I’m sorry, don’t be mad, I’ll be good, I promise. 

Billy blinks the red out of his eyes and turns them clearer, cooler up to Steve. He’s probably pulling some hair out of Steve’s head. Probably bruising Steve’s hip under his vice grip. Steve can’t quite shy away and shield himself from Billy’s righteous anger. Billy startles hard under Steve, realizing with cold disappointment in himself what he’s done. 

“No, no,” Billy simpers while tucking Steve back to his throat, encouraging the omega’s nose to where calm-sorry-acceptance cuts through the burning rubber of Billy’s rage. “No, hush now, I’m not mad at you, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry, you’re such a good omega, Steve, you didn’t do anything bad, shhh.”

It takes some more cuddling, Billy’s hands shaking the last of his anger out, to calm Steve down. He turns gentle on Steve again and nuzzles his jaw, paints slow kisses over whatever porcelain he can reach with Steve huddled to his chest like this. Anything to wash away Steve’s fright, to undo this.

Billy could just curse at himself for letting his temper run away like always. Unbelievable, fucking Wheeler neglecting Steve so much more than Billy had thought possible. Steve admitting the truth about her makes a lot of sense, slots some puzzle pieces together. Suppressants, no fucking wonder. 

“I’m not mad at you, I shouldn’t have done that.” Billy sighs in his ear. He’d almost fucked this up, just when he was so close. “I’m mad at her, baby, not you. How could she do that to you? How could she leave you alone when you needed her?”

Steve just gives a hopeless shrug. He truly doesn’t know, doesn’t understand the injustice Wheeler has done. No wonder Steve’s instincts and reactions to him are so hesitant. Either absent entirely or immediately overwhelmed. Steve isn’t used to being pursued like this. Wanted so loudly and so strongly. It makes Billy sick all over again. 

Sighing hard, Billy coaxes Steve up. So gently, fingers rubbing circles in his scalp to soothe the sparkling pain he’d caused. When Steve sits up enough, Billy brushes his nose over pink in Steve’s cheek. Such deep shame, his scent overrun with it. Huffing, Billy dares to kiss the corner of Steve’s mouth and then stares up at him, chin lifted proudly. 

“Look at me.”

Big puppy eyes do, although Billy suspects Steve actually just stares somewhere in the vicinity of his eyes. No matter, he has the omega’s attention. 

“None of this is your fault. What she did to you, tonight, none of it.” Billy’s eyebrows lift up, waiting for a response. An acknowledgement. He only continues when Steve nods. “To withhold affection is one thing. But to leave you alone during your heats? That’s beyond cruel, the worst kind of neglect. You know that, right? How she made you feel to be alone, like you weren’t wanted, like you did something to deserve it?”

“Is there something wrong with me?”

The question throws a wrench in Billy’s diatribe. Steve’s shoulders are higher than ever, tremble with how tense they are. He can’t keep his eyes up for long, fluttering between Billy’s and somewhere else. Eventually, he can’t take it anymore and just shutters sad eyes. Billy lets him have this, if only so that Steve won’t start crying again. 

“No,” he says sternly, almost a command. Almost. “There is nothing wrong with you, Steve. You don’t even know what to do with me, but look at you. Don’t you smell yourself, how at ease you are with me? How good you feel to be held and appreciated? You did that all on your own, without ever being shown.” Billy cranes his head forward to nuzzle their cheeks and mouths another kiss, slower, to the corner of Steve’s lips again. That gets doe eyes open, shyly watching him. “It feels good to be here with me, doesn’t it? Feels natural and right? Like you were meant for this.”

Steve’s face heats up and he shivers, but he nods in a hesitant sort of way. Embarrassed, but agreeing. Still meeting Billy’s eyes. 

A swell of possessive hunger rises in Billy, and he has to let it out. Has to, or it will eat him alive, he’ll go crazy. He dares to angle his head like he’ll kiss Steve. And Steve goes still, eyes widening a bit. No fear, just curiosity. They’re so close that it barely takes a twitch of Steve’s warm eyes to glance between Billy’s blues and the boyish bow of his lips. So different from the plush pink of Steve’s. Perfect opposites, and Billy wants to eat him up. 

Lips almost grazing the other’s, Billy rumbles, “I’ll show you just how perfect you are, how good you can be.” His grin is something slick, and his arm around Steve tightens so they feel each other all up and down their chests, their bellies. “My pretty omega, you’ll behave for me, won’t you? I know you want to, you just wanna make an alpha proud, huh?”

Steve is all stuttering breaths through a gap in his lips, barely moving to nod. His arousal is back, bright and fresh. Billy can practically see it. Effervescent. 

Voice still thick, Billy murmurs, “Say it.”

A shudder, and then softly, “I… I want to make you proud.”

“Who? Who do you want to make proud?”

Steve must get it, must understand Billy’s angle. He’s pink to his hairline, flush dripping down his throat. He has to swallow a few times, squirming, to get it out. 

“You um… I-I want to make you proud… alpha.”

It’s a stirring inside Billy he hasn’t felt for months. Not since leaving California and his last omega behind. A purr. So deeply pleased, already so proud of Steve. Steve startles in his lap, and his eyes fly open wider than ever before. Steve may not know the importance of such a noise. But his body understands. He goes lax, if a little scared, and Billy snatches him back up to crush Steve to his chest. He can’t stop it, now, just feeds the vibrations in his throat to Steve’s ear while nuzzling him. Steve fights his instincts for a moment, a breath more. And then he’s putty in Billy’s lap. 

“Shhh, my beautiful omega, it’s okay, just relax. There’s nothing to be afraid of, just breathe and feel me, baby, you’re okay.”

Steve shivers like someone has dunked him in a frozen river, though. Overwhelmed. Too much. 

He can barely speak when he whines, “What’s… happening?”

It shouldn’t surprise Billy at this point. Does Wheeler’s neglect know no bounds? Billy just keeps on holding him, petting his hand through Steve’s hair. 

“Never heard an alpha purr before, huh?”

A shy shake of the head tucked to his throat. 

Billy sighs, lying through his teeth, “That's okay, it’s not your fault. How do you feel? Relaxed? Calm?”

Steve should be chirping or trilling at him. Something. But he doesn’t know, doesn’t understand his body and his instincts. Billy will have to go slower unless he wants Steve to reject him out of blind fear. Rush him too close to the burning edge of this thing between them and he’ll turn on Billy to protect himself. Worse than a drop, just coming from the other direction. 

Steve nods again in his neck and noses along golden skin, a tiny sound slipping out of him. Almost what Billy wants. 

“When an alpha purrs to their omega, it’s a good thing. We’re happy about something you did or you excited us. You made me do that, baby, just like I knew you could. See how good you are? How it should be?”

Steve nods, but he tenses after his next shiver. He can’t huddle close enough to Billy for warmth despite Billy’s jacket over his shoulders. They should leave soon, move this to a more suitable place. Preferably Steve’s bed. 

“Do… Do I do that, too? Am I supposed to?”

Before Billy can object, Steve hums and garbles all sorts of soft noises in his throat. Billy can’t stop the bark of laughter, how his stomach shakes with each one. It’s like listening to a pup try to be intimidating. Like play fighting. Steve sours a little, ridiculed, but Billy just holds him that much tighter and slaps messy kisses to anywhere he can reach.

Not quite breathless, Billy chuckles, “No, baby, omegas don’t purr. You sort of… chirp a little. Or sometimes it’s a trill, it’s a soft noise like a—”

“Oh,” Steve blurts with a hop of his body in Billy’s lap. Eureka. “Oh yea, like a-a whine, but not exactly? Yea, I know what that is.”

But just as quickly as Steve’s revelation washes over him, he sinks back down and floods Billy with sadness-disappointment-hurt. It’s a change so lightning quick that nausea cramps Billy’s stomach, emotional whiplash. 

“Steve?”

Shrugging, a hopeless thing, Steve mumbles, “I did that with Nancy the first time we hooked up. She… held her hand over my mouth like I was being too loud. She laughed about it, but now I don’t think she thought it was funny.”

Billy can’t say anything, can’t get his throat to open up and breathe to talk. So he sits there frozen with his scent going bland and dull. Steve sighs against him, shuffles until he slips his arms around Billy’s neck, seeking comfort. Giving comfort, even though Steve doesn’t know it. 

“I do it when I’m-when I’m in heat, too. But it doesn’t really matter, you know? Nobody around to hear it so…”

Steve’s sadness is too potent for the alpha in Billy to ignore. Wheeler has taken that from Steve, too. The omega doesn’t understand his own sound of pleasure and pain, more expressive than words. Poor thing probably tries to stop himself from chirping when the noises bubble in his throat. It doesn’t take a stretch of Billy’s imagination to picture it. And he can’t abide by that, can’t allow this sour sickness oozing out of Steve. Any alpha worth their commands, worth their purr would want to comfort Steve. Steve is his no matter what, but that doesn’t mean Billy will credit this abuse, this neglect. Steve deserves the world.

Startling just a tick, barely a twitch, Steve mumbles, “Billy?” And it's a wonder Billy hears it over the loud, almost embarrassing purr that rumbles out of him. All for Steve. 

“Nn?”

A few chuckles pop out of Steve, as if he already knows the answer to his question, when he asks, “What, uh, what’re you doing? Is this still a purr?”

He pauses only long enough to say roughly, voice dragged over coals, “Yes.”

It’s already working. Billy’s voice will be thinner for wear after, but anything to stop the awful stench of Steve’s unhappiness. Billy would grumble to himself if he could, thinking his gravitational pull to Steve makes the omega’s scent more prominent. Harder to ignore, harder to take the bad. If so, then he picks up immediately on Steve’s scent lightening, turning to sweetness and happiness again. This would have coaxed him out of his drop in no time. But Billy is glad he hadn’t used it so early. He needs it now to push Steve that extra bit so that Billy can drive them back to Steve’s house. Which, if he is to believe the whisperings through the grapevine, is usually empty and devoid of parents. Perfect. 

Another chuckle after Steve cuddles up to him again, and then, “But why? It’s so loud…”

Billy gladly winds it down, happy to end the extra stress on his vocal chords. He’s not used to it anymore. In California, he would purr at the drop of a hat, would just need a single touch from his ex to get it going. Billy swallows the dryness in his throat, scratching all the way down, and misses how things were all over again. Steve noses gently at his jaw, maybe sensing his distress, and Billy turns his head to return the gesture. He can’t recreate what he had in California. He can only strive for something new. And Steve is as new as Billy can get.

“It was to comfort you. We purr for that reason, too, if you’re upset.” Billy bucks through a few coughs. He could use a beer to soothe the burn. “You distress us too, you know. We would rather be in pain than let you suffer.”

Steve ducks down, ashamed, and murmurs, “Sorry.”

Hugging Steve tightly, Billy sighs, “Don’t be,” and then relaxes his hold, relaxes back into the seat. “We should head on out to your side of town, wherever the hell that is. It’s getting late.”

Steve is adorable when he jumps and blushes.

“Oh um… You’re still coming home with me to uh…”

“Deflower you? Yes.”

Steve snorts and rolls his eyes, sitting up. He plays with his hair while avoiding Billy’s hungry gaze, scent going sort of nervous-excited as he blushes. Better than half an hour ago. Billy calls this a success.

“You know I’m not a virgin, right?”

And Billy can’t fucking help himself when he grins with his tongue in his teeth and murmurs suggestively, “Yea, but you’re a knot virgin, so…”

Steve’s, “Oh my god,” sparks another bark of laughter out of Billy. These two times are… probably the first since leaving home. It’s a sobering thought, considering how he used to be. His laughter winds down quickly enough with Steve casting curious, embarrassed eyes his way. Not quite shy, but something along those lines. Billy doesn’t give much thought to Steve’s earlier admission that he’s never fucked a guy. Steve’s a big boy, can handle himself. And Billy isn’t giving him anything Steve doesn’t want. When Billy is done with him, hopefully this heartbreak will be a faded wash. 

Shifting Steve in his lap using only his legs, just to watch Steve perk up, Billy drawls, “So we goin’ or what?”

A nervous bubble of laughter and then, “I’ve uh… You know I’ve never been interested in a guy before. Never looked twice…” Steve looks him up and down now, unashamed of all that skin. “So what makes you so different?”

Billy shrugs, suave and confident when he levels a silky grin Steve’s way.

“This is just gonna be a night of firsts for you, huh baby? I really am gonna spoil you rotten.”

Steve snorts again and shakes his head.

“No girl ever talked to me like that, so maybe that’s it.”

Billy just leans into his space, nowhere to go but the back of the driver’s seat, and murmurs from the bottom of his rough throat, “Chalk it up to instincts. Or maybe I’m just that good.” A cock of his head. “Guess you’ll have to see, won’t you?”

It doesn’t take more convincing for Steve to hand over the keys. Practically throws them in Billy’s face when the alpha gives him a come hither look and asks for them. Steve doesn’t even pout or huff when Billy takes the wheel, something Billy will have to look into later. He waves away Steve’s worries about the Camaro. He can’t be fucked with it right now, let the cops have it for a night. He’ll be damned if he walks back, races to Steve’s neighborhood, only to find out the omega got cold feet. If he doesn’t keep Steve hot, doesn’t slide his right hand up Steve’s thigh as he drives, it could all come crashing down. So, headlights cutting through the midnight air, Billy chokes the interior of the BMW and counts the ticks of his heart as they draw closer and closer to the Harrington house. Blissfully dark and empty when they arrive. Perfect.


	2. Tell Me Things That You've Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so bad at staying on top of my editing! I'm that dog meme where it just wants you to throw the Frisbee but not take it. Only write! No edit! Why am I like this. It's 25,000 words/56 pages, give me a break.
> 
> Uh enjoy the Billy Hargrove Being Gross tag in this part. Cuz he is (like he does nasty things, not that he's a Bad Person). Enjoy the knotting. It felt good to write again, like revisiting memories of an old lover lol.
> 
> Please drop a comment and also keep an eye out for another ABO fic I'll be publishing soon, titled "Aloe." It's an AU featuring pool boy Billy and season 1 rich-bitch Steve. Being a huge brat. It's great, and Billy actually is a Bad Person in that fic lol. It'll be tagged with dubious consent. 
> 
> [@missraygillette](https://twitter.com/missraygillette) I tweet about things I'm working on. Come love these stupid boys with me.

Leather jacket hooked over his shoulder on his fingers, Billy sticks to Steve’s back while the omega fights with the locked door. He’s dropped the keys twice now. All because of Billy hot and insistent right behind him. It’s almost a game, now, but Billy isn’t sure who is meant to win or lose. Steve manages to collect himself through the shuffling and bullying to throw the front door open. It bounces off the door stop screwed into the wall, and Billy catches it on the rebound. He shuffles Steve the rest of the way inside, smacks the door shut, and then locks it with his eyes on Steve.

“So. You gonna make it up those stairs before I get in your pants or what?”

Billy’s boots are loud, commanding when he takes the two steps that separate them. Booming on the hardwood of the foyer. Steve jumps like a cat and nearly spills himself on the exposed stairs. Through the boards and behind Steve, a carpeted living room sprawls. Farther back, walls of windows and… a pool outside. 

Whistling, Billy says lowly, “Forget what I said about spoiling you. You’re already a princess, Steve, you don’t really need anything else. Big house, nice car, pool. What more could a guy want?”

They both know he’s joking. Billy grins at him, neck still heavy with want for the omega. He’s not going anywhere.

“Then again, you do need someone to treat you right. Keep you in line. I hear through the rumor mill you can be quite the handful. Spray painting movie theaters? Starting fights with other omegas?”

On cue, Steve pouts where he’s three stairs taller than Billy. Still, somehow Billy has the upper hand with his chin lifted and smirk easy.

“That was… I shouldn’t have done that. And punching Jonathan was a mistake, too. I was being stupid and jealous. I’m not like that anymore.”

Eyebrow cocked, Billy asks genuinely, “What changed?”

Like his head is on a string, Steve glances smooth and steady over his shoulder. Billy does too, leans around Steve and the stairs to watch the blue glow of the pool. Billy’s eyebrow stays high as he waits for… whatever the hell this is to pass. Something mournful slips into Steve’s scent, tainting the flirtatious tang of him. Billy just blinks at all the contemplative silence and Steve staring at their feet for entirely too long. Eventually, just as Billy is about to break the glass between them, Steve lifts his head again and looks haggard. Sleepless.

“I did.” Steve shrugs, still far away. “A lot happened here last year, things I can’t talk about.” And Steve must mean it, because he turns on the stairs in his sneakers, jerks his head, and mumbles, “Come on. Room’s upstairs.”

Nothing more about ‘last year.’ The conversation is clearly marked as off limits. Shrugging and itching for a cigarette, Billy climbs the stairs behind Steve. At least the view is nice, Steve still just in his jeans and the t-shirt. Despite the heaviness that lingers over Steve’s shoulders, Billy reaches up with his left hand to pinch a cheek. It gets Steve leaping up the last two stairs, hands slapping the wall and banister to catch himself. Billy is filthy grins and satisfaction when he stomps onto the landing.

“Don’t mind me, baby, follow the leader, right?”

Huffing and slapping imaginary dust off his chest, Steve grumbles, “I almost tripped, you know. I could have hit my head or something.”

“Aww, don’t worry, I woulda carried you the rest of the way.”

Steve sputters at that and backs up a jumpy step when Billy takes one toward him. Now that they’re standing, Billy knows Steve is probably taller than him. Maybe an inch without Billy’s boots on. But Steve has this way about that makes him shrink whenever he’s nervous. Intimidated. It works out for Billy as he grins and sees himself in Steve’s eyes.

“Although, that can still be arranged, if you want.”

The landing is one of those breezy ones. Billy needs only to peek around Steve to stare down into the carpeted living room. To Billy’s left is clearly Steve’s room. It’s the only place in the house that holds scent. Humming, Billy twists at the hip long enough to drape his jacket over the railing. Good enough, he won’t need it for the rest of the night. Hands free, Billy snatches Steve by the hips and shuffles them down to where the wall begins. It’s just a wide enough space, Steve’s room beyond, to lift the omega clear off his feet.

Steve yelps and struggles, eyes bugging out of his head, thighs snapping to Billy’s body in wild panic. It’s all Billy needs to muscle his way between those shapely thighs, cup Steve along his ass, and then slam them into the wall. Something groans behind the drywall. Not quite a snap. Or maybe it’s Steve, already shaking and scrambling at the bulk of Billy’s shoulders. His palms are soft over Billy’s skin, slim fingers pawing at him. They’re pretty for a boy’s hands. Genetics or his omega status, Billy doesn’t know. Doesn’t care.

“Holy shit,” Steve breathes. “You, you fucking just picked me up. Like it was nothing.”

Billy leans away, not letting Steve slide even an inch, and then smacks Steve back into the wall. This time, Billy is all eyes on him and catches the flutter in Steve’s eyes, lips, and throat. Poetry in motion down that pale neck.

Hands tight at Billy’s shoulders, nails digging in, Steve shudders through an exhale, “Billy…”

“Mmm, that’s right.” Billy’s hands squeeze where they support Steve’s weight at his ass. Entirely on purpose of course. “You know, I bet I could fuck you right here. Against the hall with your pretty sounds echoing in this big house. Hope your neighbors don’t look through your windows…”

Steve startles hard against Billy, sickly fear tearing through him, and he’s rambling, “Uh, no let’s go to my room, it’s literally right here, we can shut the door and have some, uh, privacy, you know?”

Over Steve’s shoulder, Billy stares down into the living room. To the pool outside. There’s something going on here, something that Steve truly fears. A thread connects all these things, but Billy cannot make sense of the tangled line. He shakes his head as if to discard the thoughts and then firms up his grip on Steve.

Rocking his weight back, Billy takes every inch and pound of Steve. He weighs every bit his gangly, runner’s body should. Satisfaction and pride over picking Steve up and carrying him soaks through Billy’s skin. Steve’s arms slipping about his shoulders try to tighten, to hold, but Billy has other plans.

Steve sputters as Billy just drops him on the bed like the prize he is. Billy even stands there as Steve flails, hands on his hips and chuckling warmly. His amusement softens to just a smirk when Steve finally smacks his sheets off him and frees himself. Doe eyes narrow up at him over a pout. All while Steve wrestles his shoes off, mumbles something about tracking dirt into his bed. 

And then Steve tunes into the want-need-happy they churn out in equal parts. He’s pink and flushed again in no time, turning his head away from Billy. The wave of his gelled hair, a little looser because of all the petting, flops into Steve’s eyes. Sheltering him. 

“Hey um… can I-can I ask you something? I didn’t think about it until now um…”

Trying to keep the impatience out of his huff, Billy grumbles, “What is it?”

All the while, the thick fingers of Billy’s left hand toy with popping the button on his jeans. Steve has no idea how eager he is for this, can’t pick out the heady arousal about to soak the air in here. But Billy’s fingers flicking and thumbing catch Steve’s attention. He always flusters so pretty, meets Billy’s eyes if only for a blink. 

“When you found me uh… what was like? Happening to me? I didn’t see or hear you walk up at all, I was just… really upset. I’ve never felt like that before.”

Good to know this is the one and only time Wheeler will ever drop Steve like this. Hopefully it’s the last time in Steve’s life, honestly. 

“It’s call a drop,” Billy sighs, almost unable to believe he’s giving sex ed talks, now. “An omega drop. It’s when an alpha gives you a command you’re not ready for, or they command you too harshly. It’s a defense mechanism to protect you so you don’t follow a command blindly.”

Making a pinched face, Steve asks, “Is that why I don’t remember running to my car?”

“Yep. By morning, you might forget even more of tonight. Sort of depends on how much you cope with it. You seem all right, now.”

Billy knows Steve is all right. Because he wouldn’t have moved them until Steve was out of the drop. Too risky moving a panicked omega like that. Plus until Steve was coherent, if he came to in anywhere other than his territory or with his alpha, well… He might think something foul was about. And although Billy knows he will do terrible, delicious things to Steve, he would prefer a willing omega. Willing omegas make willing mates, and Billy has never toyed with that word or concept before. He blames it on the heaviness between his legs and how his teeth ache more and more with every passing second. He is a beginning-of-the-month kind of alpha… 

Nodding but still unsure, Steve meets Billy’s eyes for true this time and asks carefully, “How did you find me?”

They’ve been over this, giving credence to Steve already forgetting. It’s no matter, Billy is happy to wedge himself a little deeper into Steve’s good graces. 

Billy takes a step closer to the bed where Steve lies comfortable and soft, wrapped up in the scent of his nest. If this could be called a nest. Steve only has one damn pillow, a sheet, and a comforter on his bed… Like some weak-scented beta. Steve’s shoulders hunch as Billy’s comfortable scent sours with annoyance.

Sighing hard in his throat, Billy glances around the room for more to pile on the bed. Dirty clothes, jackets, anything. Steve will need it for his first knot. Unfortunately, there’s not much of anything in Steve’s room. Ugly wallpaper, furniture, framed posters on the wall that don’t seem like Steve’s choices. Barely any personality in here. Snarl playing with Billy’s upper lip, he twists on his boot heel and marches from the room. 

“H-hey wait, where—”

Letting perhaps just a bit, just a modicum of a command slip into his voice, Billy looks over his shoulder and says, “Stay.”

It’s too much, though, and Steve cowers. 

“I’m not leaving, I’m just looking for something, okay?” Billy angles a pointed stare at Steve, trying to be patient now that they’re so close. “I’m not leaving, baby, I’ll be right back.”

Steve says nothing, just watches him walk away with big eyes that plead for him to come back. He truly will be right back once he raids a bedroom for more nesting things for Steve. For them. There’s a guest room on the other side of the stairs up here. Billy makes quick work of the pillows and comforter done all nice and tidy. Like this is a hotel or some shit. Scoffing, Billy drags it all back to Steve’s room. Four pillows is better than one. Wheeler really is a piece of fucking work, taking Steve when his whole sense of status is so twisted up and wrong…

Dumping the pilfered materials on Steve’s splayed legs, Billy says rather proudly, “Here. This will make you more comfortable while we make a mess of you.”

He adds a wink to that just to see Steve roll his eyes, pink deepening under them. 

“What’s this for?”

Billy could just put himself through a wall. But he can’t do that, can’t get frustrated at Steve for not knowing. Who in his life would teach him this shit? It’s not like how it’d been in California. The moment Billy presented in the middle of running a mile for gym, he was taken out of school for the rest of the week and sat with other alphas at the community center to be taught everything he would need to know. That was over the span of two weekdays and then the whole fucking weekend. Because they had to learn how to approach and handle omegas too, not just each other. Steve is probably lucky to have a pamphlet shoved into his hands about his heats, pregnancy, mates—

Oh Jesus, is he on any sort of birth control?

Steve blinks up at him, still not entirely sure, clearly uncomfortable, and mumbles, “Billy?”

Billy puts a pin in that thought. He needs to know before they get heavy, but for now reassuring Steve and teaching him this is more important. The immediate is more important. Bow of his lips pursed tightly to the other, Billy sits on the edge of Steve’s bed by his hidden feet. He reaches for the pillows, handing one to Steve, and then rubs the other all over himself. Mostly his chest and neck, but his hair, too. His scent on anything in Steve’s bed will be comforting. Especially if he has to leave for any length of time with a blissed-out omega still riding the afterglow. Which Billy hopes for. 

When Billy is done with the pillow, pulling away from it, he finds Steve watching him. Curious and amused. But not doing anything. 

“Haven’t you ever heard of ‘monkey see, monkey do?’ Take your shirt off and rub the pillow on you.”

“… Why?”

“Cuz I’m being a nice guy and teaching you how to build a nest, cuz you clearly don’t know how.”

Steve’s face pinches into something disgusted and insulted. 

“I’m not an animal, you know.”

Billy throws his pillow up to the headboard and snatches the third pillow he’d stolen. He gets to work rubbing that one over his scent glands, too. They’ll be equal this way. 

“Did I say you were? Turn the attitude down a little bit, I’m trying to teach you important shit. So don’t fucking bite my head off.”

Steve flinches back, holding the pillow between them. His face is still unhappy about this, but he glances down to the pillow anyway. 

“Why do you care? Aren’t you here to just fuck me and leave?”

Billy stops mid-rub of the cotton pillowcase over his face. He has to draw the soft thing down to look at Steve. The omega’s head is bowed, fingers playing with the pillow Billy had shoved at him. He’s bland and dull at his neck, self-hatred so obvious now. Because that’s all Steve is good for. Someone fucking him and leaving. 

Moving slowly, especially when sad eyes zip to him setting the pillow aside, Billy shuffles closer to Steve. He pauses when Steve picks his eyes up enough to meet blues, face guarded. It’s the most defensive Steve has been the moment Billy found him in the BMW. Billy tilts his head just so, letting the comfort-acceptance of his neck fill the space between them. Mournful browns even glance to the hollows in Billy’s throat, all along his collarbones. He’s still in nothing but his boots and jeans, arousal forgotten for now. On the back burner, left to keep warm. 

Billy folds his right leg up to twist at the hip so he faces Steve. Holding a hand out, Billy flicks his fingers towards himself with a warm, gravelly, “C’mere.”

Steve just recoils though, the exact opposite of what Billy wants. 

“Why?” He snaps, bratty and attitude high. Defensive. 

Billy gives Steve a patronizing look, eyebrows high like Steve is being silly about this. Because he is. 

“Because I need to show you something. You know I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“No, actually, I don’t know that,” Steve snaps, temper chugging along faster now. “I don’t know you, man, you-you were a dick to me like two hours ago, and now you’re here bossing me around like you own the place and-and in my house, and you think—”

Hackles rising, Billy bites out just on the side of yelling, “That's enough!”

That shuts Steve right up. Whether he has history with raised voices or just zips his lips because it’s an alpha, Billy doesn’t know. Doesn’t much care as he squeezes the bridge of his nose. Calm. He has to be calm. Steve isn’t dependent on him for emotional stability anymore. He can think again, can pick through their interactions and call Billy out like just now. Sighing and hating how Steve cowers, Billy offers his hand again. 

“It’s how I treat everybody, Steve, I’m kind of an asshole if you couldn’t tell. Now will you please just get over here? You’ve got no reason to trust anything I’m saying, so just come here and I’ll show you.”

His body has always spoken loudly for him. Always puffed up and prideful, beautiful in a way that makes people envious or hungry for him. Billy may not be the greatest at comforting people, doesn’t know his own strength most of the time, but he can do this. Steve doesn’t need to be handled with kid gloves. He can take some manhandling and roughness, probably prefers it if only to salvage his pride. Nothing more insulting than treating an omega like they’re made of glass. 

It takes nudging his hand closer to Steve and curling his fingers again to coax him forward. Finally, Steve draws the stolen comforter off his legs and scoots himself within Billy’s reach. His knee grazes Billy’s shin through their jeans. Billy gives him a moment of tenderness in return, brushing the curl of his knuckles down Steve’s jaw. Just to work out some of the hardness in Steve’s eyes, his mouth. When Steve softens slightly, Billy wraps his hand around the back of Steve’s neck, grip tight and almost punishing, and hauls Steve straight to his throat. 

He expects the struggle. Expects Steve to grunt and curse a little, hands slapping to Billy’s shoulder and chest. Nails biting him. It doesn’t matter, and Billy snakes his right arm back around Steve’s hips. Like in the BMW, where he’d held Steve and drew him back to the surface, out of his drop with touch and smell. Billy does much the same now and floods Steve with trust and softness, saying with his body what his words can’t convey. Words are so flimsy, full of lies and withheld truths. Billy can’t lie like this, never was any good at masking his emotions. 

Steve freezes against him, every inch of him going tight. Billy doesn’t let up. He could maybe soften the grip of his fingers in Steve’s neck. But he won’t. Instead, he leans his cheek on Steve’s hair and gives him a mild purr. Just a soft rumble, enough to pierce through the omega’s stubborn resolve. Trust me, I could never hurt you, I don’t want to, can’t you tell how much I want you, don’t you want me too?

And then like his strings are cut, Steve is a pile of warm boy all over Billy’s chest. Practically in his lap again, not that Billy would mind. Steve gives him a tiny sound, a whine, and Billy nuzzles him harder. 

“See?” He says, amused, into Steve’s blushing ear. “I may be an asshole, but I’m not gonna hurt you, Steve. I’m not here to hit it and quit it, either.”

Now he eases up on Steve’s neck, only to have Steve shudder and press his face straight to a scent gland. Billy has to hold in his own shiver, heart climbing in his throat to think Steve would kiss or taste him directly. 

Another whine from Steve, and Billy adds lower, “Don’t you think if I wanted an omega to pop my knot in I coulda just got it at the party? Or fucked you in your car?” His chest huffs with a single chuckle. “Rape is bad enough, baby, but taking advantage of an omega when they’re in a bad way like that? Even I’m not that cruel.”

Cruel like the alpha who would cause all this. Denying Steve a deep part of himself, further alienating him from what he is. Before Billy’s righteous anger can sour his neck, Steve nods. Just a little. It’s Billy’s turn to go stock still, suck a breath through his teeth when plush lips drag lazy over his throat. Down to the dips in the crook of his neck, and Billy squeezes Steve that much tighter to him when a tongue sneaks out to lick him. Just kitten licks, careful and curious of the overwhelming take-need-arousal pooling thickly there. Maybe Steve has never smelled it before, or maybe no one has ever broadcast so much desire for him. Strength nudges against Billy’s palm, to be let up, and Billy allows it. 

They’re in each other’s faces when Steve shyly meets his eyes. They’re wide in an instant as they take in how relaxed Billy is. The hood of his lids and the satisfaction rolling off him. No smarmy grins, no bravado. Only relaxed pleasure. 

“… Wow,” Steve breathes. “You’re uh… you’re serious.”

Billy blinks lazy and slow, still buzzing from Steve’s mouth on him, and mumbles, “Deadly.”

Steve is pretty and pink again when he nods. He sits back on his ass, eyeing Billy’s left hand with a pout when it slips from his neck. Steve is quick to pull that lip between his teeth, though, when he fidgets with his fingers. 

“So um… Sorry about, uh, all that. I’m still messed up over Nancy, I shouldn’t take it out on you, you’re just trying to help.”

Billy worms his thick fingers between Steve’s slim ones just to stop him from picking at himself. He has the ragged, boyish nails of someone who chews when he’s anxious. The caps and erasers of Steve’s school supplies are probably pitted with teeth marks. Poor thing. So Billy takes one of Steve’s hands for himself and just holds it. Lets Steve lace their fingers together, palm to palm. 

“Apology accepted,” Billy grunts, still not fully out of it. His head shouldn’t be this foggy, and it takes actual effort to shake it away. A shiver, and then his voice stronger, “You gonna let me show you how to make a nest or not?”

Steve watches him for a spell with his bottom lip in his teeth. His curious gaze roams over the slight honey glow in Billy’s cheeks, how his eyes are still somewhat loopy. The air clogs with more desire as every second passes. It’s only a matter of time before Steve either picks up on it and asks or just recognizes the beginnings of a rut. Then again, there’s a good chance Steve has never smelled that before. He knows something is up, turns his straight nose up as his eyebrows come together. Confused but comfortable with Billy once more. 

“Y-yea sure um… Are you okay? You feel like you’re burning up. And you…”

“Smell like I’m about to jump your bones?”

Steve sputters through a laugh, something so pure and darling, and then his voice cracks a bit when he squeaks out, “Uh yea, that.”

Shrugging, Billy squeezes Steve’s hand in his. He can’t help the teasing grin. 

“It’s in bad taste to blame the distressed omega for triggering my rut, but…” He winks when Steve’s face heats up, lips already parted in indignation. “But it usually hits at the beginning of the month for me, so your timing is either perfect or terrible. Perfect for me, terrible for what I wanna do to you.”

More bubbling, nervous laughter and then Steve asks, “Do you hear yourself when you talk? Who says shit like that?”

Another shrug and Billy rumbles, “I don’t hear any objections. If you don’t like it, tell me to leave.”

“Would you actually leave if I asked you to?”

“I could be convinced.”

And Steve considers him for an uncomfortable amount of time. Billy wants to throw his attitude around and just bully Steve into a decision. Either Steve wants him or he doesn’t. It’s not rocket science. Billy knows how compatible they are, how their scents and bodies compliment each other. A relationship isn’t built solely on that. It’s a decent start. To build something that will last. And Billy is not above starting things between them by fucking the every-loving daylights out of Steve. It’s best they get the tension worked out. Actions speak louder than words.

Eventually, though, Steve comes to a decision. He breaks his focus on Billy, shy again, and plays with the extra comforter with his free hand. His other is still wrapped up in Billy’s. 

“So-so what’s this nest crap you keep going on about? Why is it important?”

Billy feels the edge of this thing between them right at the toes of his boots. Perched precariously, leaning towards the ravenous abyss. He needs one more word of confirmation before he backs Steve into the nest they’re about to make and ruin the omega for anyone else. 

“Steve.”

That coaxes brown eyes up without any hesitation. Good. 

“Are you on the pill?”

Stevens face flinches through a few emotions. Most of them embarrassed, one or two indignant, and then skeptical. 

“Uh duh? And jeez man way to break my neck with that topic change. Up until tonight I was having… not exactly regular, but occasional sex with—”

“Don’t need your life story, man, just need a yes or no, because I don’t have condoms with me, so I hope bareback is cool with you.”

Steve’s strained, “Oh my god,” under his breath is enough for Billy. 

He stands from the bed despite Steve’s head whipping around, betrayed. Billy snorts at the way Steve pouts, probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it, and finally squats down to loosen his laces, toe off his boots. They end up nudged under Steve’s rickety desk chair, out of the way, and he returns to the edge of the bed. Steve tilts his head back to look up at him. Waiting for guidance, unsure of what they’re doing but open to it. 

Pointing to the last extra pillow, Billy says, “Take your shirt off and do what I did, rub the pillow all over you. You want it to smell like you, for comfort.” Shapely eyebrows waggle. “For later, get me?”

Steve looks skeptical, but he does as he’s told. That pleases Billy more than he can say, so he lets that satisfaction waft through the space between them. He knows when it hits Steve, because his face softens. Slim hands finally reach for the hem of Steve’s black shirt, and he whips it over his head. Before he can toss it away, Billy reaches for it and tugs it from Steve’s fingers. He holds the omega’s curious stare while holding the collar to his nose, inhaling. It’s not the best sample of Steve’s scent, sourness of his distress stuck deep in the fibers. But above that, it’s just the salt and skin smell of Steve, and Billy wants to taste the real thing. His eyes fall shut, freeing Steve from his intense stare, and he smiles behind the shirt when fabric shifting and skin rasping tickles his ears. 

“That’s good,” Billy encourages, tossing Steve’s shirt to the headboard. He’d include his own if he were wearing one. “Make sure you get your neck, too. It may seem weird, but you’ll appreciate it later. Trust me.”

He means it casually, just an off-handed comment. But Steve pauses with the pillow hugged to his chest, cuddling it, when he glances up all sweet and shy. 

“You know, if this hadn’t happened, I probably wouldn’t trust you at all. You said you’re an asshole so…”

Things could have gone so awry after this party. They would be on a crash course to destruction if not for Wheeler. Even though Billy would rather bite his tongue off than admit it. Billy knows himself well. Knows he would pursue Steve with all the aggression and desire building in him even now. Always building, pressing against his self-control and resolve to be not a complete bastard, to not twist Steve’s arm into this.

The possessiveness is always lurking. He will have Steve no matter what, will make the pretty boy his from head to toe, inside and out. But it doesn’t have to be all ball and chain. It can be nice, dates and all that soft shit. He can take care of Steve like Steve deserves. Billy knows he wants that, too, not to just carve Steve up and consume him until the line between them blurs. 

Shrugging, Billy says, “At least I’m honest. That’s what I want from you too, you know. Honesty. Don’t ever lie to me.”

Steve frowns and pulls the pillow down to his lap. Always resisting, just a little bit. 

“You say that like you’re gonna stick around after tonight. You said you didn’t want like… just a quickie, but…”

Thumbs hooked his pockets, Billy stares down at Steve with all the intimidation and heady intensity he knows he has. It usually makes people nervous. Makes some animal part of them wary, hindbrain itching for that fight or flight response. Steve isn’t different from them, keeps his frown but leans ever so slightly away from Billy. 

“You want me to make it real clear for you, pretty boy?”

Steve mouths the pet name to himself, confused, but nods anyway. He even almost meets hard sapphires with their sharp ends pointed straight at him. Almost. 

He’s right at the edge of the bed, knees brushing the mattress when he murmurs with all the heat and need in him, “I’m gonna give it to you harder than anyone ever has before. You’re gonna feel it when you walk around school, when you sit, everything. You won’t be able to stop thinking about me and everywhere I touched you, that empty place inside you I’m gonna fill over and over.”

Steve could probably pass out from how red his face is. The color bleeds like watercolors down Steve’s throat, to his bare chest. He’s not afraid, though, leans in harder than when he’d shied away. Most likely isn’t aware of how he stares up in total rapture, face in soft light from Billy’s shadow cast over him. Billy isn’t done with him yet, though, and slowly hikes a knee up on the bed. He truly towers above Steve now, and it pleases him deeply when Steve tilts his head back to keep those big, warm eyes on him. 

“And just when you think you’ve forgotten me?” Billy tilts his head just so. “I’ll be right there to do it all over again. Mark you up so everybody knows you’re mine and what I did to you. So everyone knows how much you love this knot.”

A pause as Billy’s left hand grabs himself in his jeans. He’s been half-hard practically all night, is about to have his zipper bite into his dick and press a wet spot through the denim. But it’s all worth it to let his words, his promise soak in. To eat up the shiver in Steve, how he has to try twice to swallow. Already Billy picks up the eagerness pouring out of Steve. A tiny amount of fear—fear of the unknown, fear of how badly he wants this—compliments Steve’s potent desire. But a little bit of fear goes a long way, and Billy eats that up, too. 

Then, words luxurious and slow, “After tonight, everyone will know who you belong to, whose omega you are.” Billy looks him up and down slowly so Steve feels every inch of his heated stare, chasing the shiver that racks him. “Who do you belong to, baby? Tell me all nice and pretty like.”

Steve can’t look at him anymore, and so closes his eyes when he groans, “You.”

The ring on Billy’s middle finger catches the light when he reaches for Steve’s chin. He guides Steve’s pretty head up and leans that much closer. It doesn’t miss Billy’s sharp attention that it wouldn’t take much to grab Steve by the hair and rub the omega’s face right in the crotch of his jeans. It’s too early for that. Maybe later, maybe his next rut. Or Steve’s next heat, whichever comes first. He’d love nothing more than to drive Steve crazy, driving his desire and mindlessness higher, and then finally filling Steve with what he needs. Either end suits Billy fine. 

“Hmm, I know you can do better than that, my pretty omega, my baby, say it right.”

Billy can’t help himself, gives in to his earlier desire to press his thumb to Steve’s plush lips. And Steve falls open for him with a gasp and flutter of his eyes. A pink tongue swipes out, meaning to wet Steve’s lips surely, but laps over the tip of Billy’s thumb. Heart thundering like a stampede, Billy drags his thumb to the corner of Steve’s mouth and drinks up the way Steve pants a little. Too excited for his own good. 

Steve’s chin shifts in Billy’s hold when he closes his mouth to swallow, opens again to lick his lips for real. Melty eyes a little wet from embarrassment, excitement, something, blink up at him. Billy gives him an encouraging smile, dangerous at the edges. Promising all the terrible things behind Billy’s eyes that Steve can’t possibly know, wouldn’t even begin to grasp. Steve shudders again, goes shy again, but somehow brings his eyes back up for good. 

“Um… I-I belong to you, Billy…”

Billy’s head tilts the other way, smile patronizing. Close, but…

Steve’s shoulders climb up all slim and pretty to his ears. Speckled like Billy had known they would be. And Billy wants to touch and lick every single mark. He stares hard as if to will the words through the ether and into Steve’s skin. Branding him, just as Billy promised. 

Voice going thick and fluttery, eyes somehow still on Billy above him, Steve tries again. 

“I’m yours… alpha.”

“That’s right,” Billy drawls with his voice already dipping into a purr. He fights through it to bring both hands to Steve’s hair, petting him and praising him. “You’re goddamn right you’re mine, pretty boy. So well behaved and beautiful, all you wanna do is be good for me, don’t you?”

Eyes blissful when they shut, Steve nods in his hands. Billy’s purr isn’t quite as loud as it’d been to comfort Steve, but it cannot be ignored. Too much desire and deep, total affection to control it. Billy flicks his fingers gently under Steve’s ear, testing to see if he’s ticklish. Steve jumps so deliciously like Billy knew he would. Makes him wonder where else Steve is ticklish. 

And then a chirp. 

So soft Billy would have missed it if not for his palms cradling it almost at the source. Billy’s purr winds down from the shock of such a wonderful sound. He has a moment, a breath, to admire Steve’s blissed face where he leans his head into Billy’s caress. So comfortable and free, so painfully beautiful right now. Billy’s heart couldn’t be lighter, couldn’t be hungrier to tear into Steve so he can hear the chirp again, over and over until Steve’s voice is raw and rough, until Steve can’t speak anymore. 

Steve’s eyes fly open wide during the ensuing silence. Shame makes him hunch up, recoiling. Because all he knows is that noise is bad, that he shouldn’t make it. His alpha will be disappointed if he does. 

Billy climbs the rest of the way up on his knees to Steve’s bed to draw the trembling omega to his chest. He’s doubly thankful now for his little trip into Tina’s bathroom. So his skin doesn’t stink like beer and sweat when he guides Steve’s burning cheek to his heart. Hopefully Steve can hear it, feel it. 

Cowering, Steve breathes, “Sorry…”

It’s not how Billy had imagined first touching Steve’s body. Not even close. But he knows the power of his hands—for better or for worse—and slides them up and down Steve’s bowed back. The warmth and drag of their skin is enough to stop Steve from trying to make himself as small as possible. He still huddles to Billy, though. Sighing on the edge of anger all over again, Billy just nuzzles Steve and keeps purring. Watches him from on high. A glance down his pale back reveals a sea of beauty marks. Ink on paper. Billy can’t even appreciate them right now, too focused on bringing Steve back from his sorrow. He’ll never convince Steve that he’s overjoyed to hear him chirp, that he wants to hear it over and over. So he rubs the acceptance-pleased stink of him into Steve’s hair.

Tucking his mouth to the shell of Steve’s ear, he murmurs, “I’m not mad at you, Steve, come on. I know you can feel me purring, would I be doing that if I were mad?” 

Steve sighs with his whole body, leaning his weight properly into Billy, and mumbles, “Yea, but Nancy—”

“She was wrong,” Billy nearly growls into soft hair.

He just barely manages to hold it in, can’t stop the flow of encouragement to Steve. It will take more than some purring and promises of debauchery to make Steve forget Wheeler. That won’t stop Billy from trying to paint over her and her neglect. 

Rubbing his cheek harder into Steve’s hair, Billy grunts, “She was wrong to make you ashamed of your body and who you are. I’m not like her, Steve, I’ll never be like her. The sounds you make let me know you’re happy and comfortable, they’re important, okay?” He ducks down that much more to peek at brown eyes hiding behind soft hair. Steve doesn’t look at him, but Billy says anyway, “You don’t have to hide anything with me. I want to hear you. Understand?”

He squeezes Steve wrapped up in his arms. Tight until he knows it probably hurts. Steve huffs a breath over his collarbones, noses the dips one last time, and then nudges against Billy’s strength. Billy lets him up just like every other time.

When Steve sits up again, his hands pooled in his lap, he nods his understanding. He even manages to flick a glance up to blues waiting for him. A flash of a tight smile from Steve, and then it’s away. His hands move so uncertain to the extra comforter. Picking at it. Playing with it.

Billy can’t stand to see him so despondent. Huffing and annoyed to not get his way, Billy cranes forward on his knees to rest his hands on Steve’s shoulders. It soothes some of Billy’s irritation over Wheeler when Steve doesn’t flinch, actually leans into the touch. Billy ducking his head to bump their noses is Steve’s reward for being so calm, for trusting Billy. That’s what slips under the heavy shame pouring off him. Trust. Billy bows his head deeper until Steve has to meet his eyes. And when Billy sits up to straighten the stoop in his back, doe eyes follow him.

“Come on,” he says gently. “Lie down at the pillows and I’ll finish your nest. You can sleep when I’m done with it.”

Little frown tugging on his lips, Steve quickly blurts out, “No, wait, aren’t you-aren’t we gonna still…” Color blossoms under the beauty marks on Steve’s cheek. “Fool around? You said we would so…”

That gets him perking right back up.

“You’re still upset, so I thought you wouldn’t want to. I’m absolutely still in the game if you aren’t calling a timeout.”

That pink lingers as Steve shakes his head, pulls his lip between his teeth. Billy is excited all over again, dying to abuse Steve’s lips as badly as the omega does.

Shyly, voice cracking he’s so embarrassed, Steve asks almost with a wince, “You’ll go slow, right? I’ve never fooled around with a guy, especially not an alpha one to boot.”

“Pretty sure I said something about going slow so you’d feel everything.” Billy flicks his eyebrows up once, drawls through the beginnings of a grin, “Unless I’m remembering it wrong?”

Steve shakes his head hard again, throwing his hair all over the place. Billy hums and nudges Steve back and up, up to the pillows. 

“Still want you up at the headboard, though. Hopefully we don’t break it or the wall, yea?”

He winks, fully leaning into this again, and Steve gives him exactly what he wants. A sputter while twisting onto a thigh to do as Billy bids him. It’ll be a short pursuit up to the pillows. Steve hesitates long enough to reach for the belt at his hips, but Billy grabs his wrist to deter him.

“Leave it,” he purrs down. “Lemme take care of you, baby.”

Steve shudders in his hold, but he nods and obeys. That earns him a curl of a purr, his alpha so pleased with him. Billy allows Steve a moment so that it washes over him and smooths out his ruffled feathers. Everything is okay, no one is going to hurt you, I won’t let them. 

Humming, almost smug, Billy praises, “Be a good boy for me and lie down. Just relax and let me pamper you. You still want me, yea?”

Eyes softly shut, Steve nods. Billy slips his thumb to the soft inside of Steve’s wrist. Presses there to sinew and blue veins until Steve’s pulse jumps against his thumbs. Billy knows immediately, with his head fuzzy and full of base thoughts—fill him up, make him squeal, make him cry your name, alpha!—that he wants Steve’s pulse in his teeth. Wants to wrap his hands around that pale column and squeeze. Only a little. If Steve will give Billy that trust, let him once again experience the thrill of holding someone’s life in his big hands. They itch just thinking about it. 

Shuffling closer to Steve, backing him up, Billy asks sweetly, “Who do you want?”

It’s a game, but Steve keeps playing with him. And Billy can’t convince himself to stop. Steve obeying him and getting so flustered when he says ‘alpha’ so shyly is too good to pass up. 

“You,” Steve breathes, just as quickly amends it with, “Billy, um, a-alpha.”

Steve could probably get him fully hard just by saying that at this point. And Billy considers it, the way one considers outrageous fantasies in the heat of the moment, but urges it away. No, he’d said he would go slow. And he will. He’ll pamper and toy with Steve’s pretty body until he can slide home. Steve won’t feel a thing. Not until the end when he gets Steve squirming and squealing on his knot. Hopefully he can coax some chirps out of Steve to sweeten it all. The cherry on top—a real one. 

“Perfect,” Billy murmurs. “Now go. No touching yourself.”

Steve huffs and purses his lips about that, but he goes all the same. Billy lingers on his knees in the bed long enough to watch Steve lie down, relax, fidget with his fingers because he doesn’t know what to do with them. Billy backs off the bed before his imagination can run wild. Because he bets he can pin Steve’s wrists down with just one of his hands. Maybe. Steve isn’t the dainty sort of omega. He’s a boy on the cusp of being a man, has the hands and voice for it. He’s gorgeous, and Billy has to stop from palming himself through his jeans when he finally, finally flicks the button and pulls the zip. Steve’s eyes snapping to him the moment his cock bounces off his abs is just perfect. 

“Holy shit,” Steve breathes. He sits up a bit to get a better look. Billy is happy the lamp is still on. He’ll leave it on to see every inch of Steve, watch every twitch and flutter of his body. “Wow uh…”

Socks and jeans kicked away—no underwear—Billy stands with his hands on his hips. Grinning. 

“Like what you see?”

Eyes not quite bugging, Steve stares unashamed with his lips parted. Nods when words fail him. 

Teasing, can’t stop himself, Billy threads the fingers of his left hand through tight curls around his dick and gives them a tug. Not touching himself exactly, but close enough. All to watch Steve shiver and lick his lips. Billy catches his amused hum in his throat. Stevie boy is a little less straight than he thinks, Billy bets. Nobody looks at dick like this and isn’t a little cock hungry. He would know. 

“You don’t know,” he begins rough and low, “how much I’ve been thinking about grabbing you by the hair, holding you down, and rubbing your nose in it. Until you’re begging me to just fuck your throat like we both want.”

Steve shudders with his whole body, shoulders climbing again, and he bites back a whine. Teeth vicious in his lower lip to hold the embarrassing, needy, eager thing back. Now Billy takes himself in hand, if loosely, and casually pumps velvet flesh. He’ll be eternally grateful to his mom, no matter how prickly memories of her are, for putting her foot down when he’d been a newborn and refused to mutilate him. He credits her fee spirit, her hippie roots. It pays off now as he plays with himself, rolling foreskin back to give Steve a peek. Just a teasing taste, and then he lets himself go. He didn’t need that to get fully hard. Steve did that all on his own. 

“Are you curious? I can make that happen.”

Steve has to try at least twice to actually swallow. Lips part in the failed beginnings of a few sentences. Shyness creeps into Steve’s face, and he rubs the back of his neck when he finally tears his eyes away from Billy, looks anywhere else. 

“I uh… I’d probably be really bad at it. I have no idea what to uh… do. Which probably sounds stupid, considering I’ve had girls blow me before…”

Billy keeps his hackles down, says instead, “The offer stands if you want it. There’s a trick to it, but I bet you’d figure it out.” His grin is something terrible when shy eyes flick back up to him. “So you wanna?”

Billy’s earlier, distant thought that he doesn’t mind his dick in either end of Steve holds true now. Steve has a pretty mouth. Billy isn’t blind. And so long as the lovely omega minds those teeth of his…

Said teeth still chewing his lip, Steve shoots him shy glances and then nods. The eager-nervous oozing out of him is intoxicating. Billy will show him a good time. 

Chin tilted slightly higher, Billy’s heavy footfalls rip a startle out of Steve as he approaches. Knees up on the bed again, Billy walks on them until he’s level with Steve’s hips. He reaches down, draws the tongue of Steve’s belt out of the metal prongs and leaves it open. He pops the button on Steve’s jeans for good measure, but does nothing further. Teasing. 

“Sit up a little so I can straddle you. It’s easier if you’re higher than me.” He winks at Steve’s curious pout. “Gravity is your friend here. Saliva follows gravity, get me?”

He jerks his hips forward, letting his heavy cock bob. He’s already smeared a sticky mess over his navel from the head, foreskin popping back with how hard he is. And he can’t wait for Steve to explore that, wonders if Steve is cut, if he’s ever even seen someone like Billy before. It wouldn’t surprise Billy at all if this is a first for Steve. A night of firsts indeed. 

And Steve is beautiful and eager, nodding his head like it’s connected to him by a string. He goes scrambling and slipping on his ass to sit up like Billy tells him to. All the while, doe eyes eat up the pink flush of blood under skin, the shiny bead of precome welling up in the slit. Is the smell between them as powerful and heady for Steve as it is for Billy? Sure, there’s the skin and musk of him, yea, but on top of all that is the raw want rolling off Billy. It must have an impact, must send Steve squirming with anticipation. Billy isn’t the only hungry one. 

With Steve situated, hands flinching up as if to touch, Billy makes his move. Hands in Steve’s hair like they belong there, Billy throws a leg over Steve’s torso to straddle him. He knows what he looks like—all shifting muscles under golden skin, cock proud, eyes hooded until only blue is left. And Steve looks him all over when he can find the will to stop staring at his dick. If Billy were any less confident, he’d think Steve didn’t like it. Staring so hard like that. Steve’s shiver and the soft whine he gives, tingling through Billy’s fingertips, says otherwise. 

“What um…” Steve clears his throat and tries again. “What um… should I just go for it?”

Fingers idle and gentle in brown locks, Billy rumbles from on high, “Why don’t you touch me first. Get a feel for what you’re dealing with. And wrap your lips over your teeth when you’re ready to try. Mind your teeth or you’ll regret it.”

Firm, but not unkindly. A little bit of pain goes a long way, but he’s never been fond of teeth in such a delicate area. Pull his hair, scratch him, bite him, whatever. No teeth in his dick, no thanks. 

Steve nods and finally does wiggle a hand between them. Billy leans that much closer on his knees. If he were to be a jerk about it, he could probably smack Steve in the chin with his dick. Which would be funny, if only to see Steve pout and huff. Embarrassed. Maybe Steve would even like it. But Billy won’t, would rather Steve explore this on his own. There are enough horror stories out there of alphas going hog wild with green omegas and ruining it for them. Billy wants to ruin Steve down to his very core, but not like that. So, he keeps his hands gentle and chaste in Steve’s hair when slim fingers finally wrap around him. Squeezing. 

“Mmm, that’s nice,” Billy groans. “Been blue balling all night thinking about you, baby.”

Steve’s grip is the familiar sort. No fumbling, no hesitation. Billy grins above him, loving that Steve touches him probably the same way he plays with himself. Doesn’t even know he’s doing it like that. It’s just muscle memory, if flipped around. Billy wants to rut into that grip, but he won’t. He’ll have plenty of time to bury himself in Steve soon enough. He has plans. 

“Y-yea?” Steve licks his lips and laughs a little. “What about when you fucking climbed over furniture just to eyeball me? Then too?”

Billy grunts with Steve’s thumb spreading slick precome around the crown of his head but manages a low, “Absolutely. Couldn’t smell me over all the drunk teenagers, huh? I wanted to mmm bend you over in front of everyone and—yea, like that, that’s good—and make a mess of you. Put you in your place.”

Steve’s next breath puffs over blushing skin he’d just squeezed, just rubbed his thumb over. Tingling. 

“Oh-oh yea?”

It amuses Billy so deeply that Steve tries. He’s so shy and nervous to talk back, but he tries. Billy could just fall in love. 

“Hell yea, baby, wanted to pop my knot in your little clutch since my first day here. Don’t think I didn’t see you in your car staring at me. And then in the halls, during history.” He hisses when Steve squeezes him hard just under the head, red now from attention. “Every damn day sitting behind you, watching your neck blush when I talk. Think I could get you wet just by talking? Do you make a mess in your panties when I have to read out loud?”

Billy almost regrets not yanking Steve’s jeans down his long legs before starting this. He wants to smell how hot he makes Steve. If only so that they can mix together. Steve will get drunk off him like this, so close to the source. He knows it, because Steve’s eyes roll back and flutter, breaths stuttering through parted lips. 

“Jesus,” Steve whispers, throat tight. He finds the will to force his eyes open, brown bright like amber where it catches the light. He’s all eyes on the thick head about to smear wetness on his lips. So close. “Jesus Christ, Billy…”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, thick and smug where he towers above Steve. He gives brown locks a gentle tug, folds sugar into his voice, and murmurs gently, “Want your mouth on me, pretty boy. Need it like I’m dying.”

Need you like I’m dying, he means. 

Steve steadies hard flesh with his fist tight at the base of Billy’s cock. It’s right where his knot will swell up later. Not right now, though. Not for this. Although the terrible thought of gagging Steve with his dick and knotting his pretty mouth, stuck and forced to swallow every last spurt… Billy twitches in Steve’s hand, a powerful kick behind his navel, and he’s that much wetter at the head for whatever Steve will give him. A lick, a kiss, anything. For however long Steve will entertain a dick in his face, really. 

Billy holds his breath with rapt attention as Steve cranes forward. They have him sandwiched between the headboard and Billy’s firm body. A rock and a hard place. It’s all for Steve so he doesn’t stress out, doesn’t turn his sweet curiosity and hunger to sour with self-consciousness. It doesn’t matter how “good” the blowjob is. That doesn’t matter at all to Billy. He just wants Steve, wants whatever he can claw from Steve and then keep it forever. So he’s all eyes on Steve and doesn’t even feel the burn in his lungs when that cute tongue sneaks out to taste. Just a lap up the underside of Billy’s head.

It punches a grunt out of Billy. The thick satisfaction surrounding Steve on all sides is probably what keeps him from questioning if this is okay. If Billy is enjoying it. He can barely keep his eyes open when Steve does it again, all warm and slick friction as he licks again. Lips sort of screwed up when the taste actually registers on his tongue, Steve huffs and powers through it. Billy could just melt from how proud he is, how thrilled he is that Steve is trying this at all. A straight boy like Steve actually stepping out of his comfort zone. It’s touching. 

“You’re doing great,” Billy sighs, wanting to let his head lull back but unwilling to take his eyes off Steve licking him. He tilts his head to the right, to see Steve better, and even carefully combs hair out of Steve’s face. For the view. “My pretty omega, you smell so good right now, can’t get enough of how much you want this. Wrap those cherry lips around me, don’t be shy. I know you want to.”

Between Billy’s knees sunk into the bed, Steve’s body shakes. Steve dives that much closer and muffles a needy groan with his lips dragging down the length. Maybe Steve knows more than he lets on as he spreads spit around. Or he’s just copying what he’s seen and felt girls do to him. Billy defers to that theory, petting Steve a little to encourage his clever boy to explore more, be bolder. When Steve pulls back, breathing a little hard and adjusting his steady grip on Billy, he takes a moment to center himself. Billy almost holds his breath again as he watches Steve chew on his lip one more time. Steve leans forward that much more. There’s a little gap between Steve’s lips, and presses his mouth plush and pink to Billy’s dick. 

It’s cute how he muffles a quiet moan even as Billy finally angles a much louder one to the ceiling. Steve isn’t even taking him in yet, just suckling and licking, clearly unsure but wanting to make him feel good. It could be shame that makes Steve hesitate. Shame over his masculinity at stake just because he’s about to stick a dick in his mouth. It’s something Steve will have to deal with or get over, because Billy isn’t going to ask him to stop. He won’t shove his cock deeper—at least not this time, he wouldn’t mind hearing Steve whine with his mouth full—but he won’t ask Steve to stop either. Encouragement is all he can give. 

“Fuck,” he punches out, needing and missing this so much more than he could imagine. Head flopping back down, Billy sweeps the wave of Steve’s hair back again. “Goddamn Steve, fuck you look so good right now.”

Steve flushes impossibly harder and relaxes the nervous squeeze of his lips. The head slips in that much more until Steve’s lips almost trip over the crown. Almost, just a little more until he pops in…

Billy sucks down a loud breath, pets Steve some more, and coos, “Relax baby, you’re doing so fucking good. Jesus, you look so pretty right now, keep going, I know you can take more.”

And Steve does with a broken moan tingling around Billy when he welcomes the alpha that much deeper. Head angled down a little like this, Billy knows Steve might drool. Might already have the shine of spit at a corner of his mouth or down his chin. He’s certainly wet and eager enough, tongue wiggling to escape the heavy weight pinning it down only so that Steve can try to lick around. He’ll have to open his mouth wider to do that, still holds shame and tension in the hinge of his jaw. Shivering and on the edge of a purr, Billy shakes his left hand free of Steve’s hair to tuck his fingers to that tense hinge. Not exactly pressing or forcing, only caressing the tension to make Steve aware of it. 

He startles like Billy had known he would. Luckily he keeps his teeth in check. Steve backs off entirely, panting and such a beautiful shade of pink to his hairline, in his ears. Brown eyes flick up to him like Billy wants, and he can’t complain when Steve just angles wet cock back into his mouth and tries again. This time, Steve’s jaw shifts under Billy’s careful fingers. Relaxing, dropping open wide. Steve’s needy groan is music to Billy’s ears—made better by how muffled it is, mouth full. The perfect sort of moan, mouth occupied and busy.

If Steve bobs his head much deeper, he won’t be able to make a sound at all. Which is equally delicious a thought that sends Billy’s left hand right back into Steve’s hair. Would Steve squirm with his air cut off? Would he gag and hesitate only to try again and again, gradually loosening up until he could take more? And that gets Billy throbbing and gushing on Steve’s tongue. He wants that, wants to hold Steve by the back of the neck and just rock the head of his dick down Steve’s throat until he comes. But… not right now. Steve isn’t ready for that. Maybe one day. 

Billy is the one to coax Steve up and away, groaning when Steve pops off him. Huffy and whining, Steve actually fights the gentle grip in his hair, darts his tongue out to lap over the weeping slit despite the taste. A purr right now might just encourage Steve to rebel more, but Billy can’t help it. The fog in his head is growing thicker all the time, now, and even though Steve had felt so sweet around him, Billy knows that’s not enough. Steve can practice blowing him however much he wants in the future. Billy wants his pleasure now, wants to dig into and find it in Steve. And this isn’t it. 

Still breathing a little hard, Steve flicks a shy gaze up through his messy hair and croaks, “Why’d you make me stop? I thought I was doing good…”

Smirking through a hum, Billy drags Steve forward by his soft hair. Not to shove his dick back in Steve’s mouth, no. Slightly offside instead, both hands holding Steve’s mouth and nose to his thick pubic hair. And Steve struggles in the warm, heady space between Billy’s thigh and his cock brushing Steve’s cheek. As Billy expects.

Billy just keeps purring and scratching Steve’s scalp. Relax, silly boy, you’ll like it if you just relax. Billy’s satisfaction and pride in Steve is thickest here. Steve couldn’t want for a better place to choke on an alpha’s desire for him. Once Steve tunes into it, stops fighting Billy’s iron grip, he sags weightless into Billy’s hip and just breathes. Sneaks out a cheeky tongue to lick hair and skin, but he finally breathes. 

“That’s all for you, Steve,” Billy cuts through his rough purr just to encourage him. “See how proud of you I am? How happy you make me?”

Steve shudders against Billy’s hip and gives him a tiny nod. His eyes are peacefully shut even as he breathes and lets out soft, tiny noises. Curious if maybe Steve’s hiding a chirp, Billy once again draws his fingers through the wave of Steve’s hair and holds it all away. He pulls Steve back like this, just enough to separate plush lips from his body. Billy snorts when he catches a tiny lap of Steve’s tongue, just as pink as the rest of his bubblegum mouth.

He holds Steve there for a few breaths, giving him time to clear his head. It’s entirely too warm between them and just thickens the alpha stink that’s already heavy in Steve’s nose. A frown wiggles across Steve’s brow and mouth, though, and he tugs in Billy’s grip. To be let down, to bury himself in that scent. And Billy lets him with a deeply pleased purr.

There it is. Tucked to the crease where his thigh meets his pelvis, a chirp muffles against skin and hair. So quiet, so small that Billy knows Steve doesn’t mean to let it out. Doesn’t know he’s letting it out. But it’s there and real all the same. Billy releases Steve’s bangs only to hold him by the back of his neck, palms cradling the sides of his throat. Again Billy wonders if Steve would let these hands wrap around this most vulnerable part of him while Billy fucks him. Billy won’t ask right now. To ask would give Steve time to mull it over. Weigh the risk. Say no. And just after being told what to do, Billy does so hate being told no. Instead, he squeezes that fragile column of porcelain and glaze. Waiting for Steve to buck, waiting for him to gasp with his air running low.

Steve turns his face more towards Billy’s thigh, a louder chirp ripping out of him, and he whines at the tail end, “Alpha…”

A thrill runs through Billy and sets his eyes ablaze. If only Steve would look up at him.

“Feel good?”

A tiny nod, and then Steve leaves his mouth open with another whine to set his teeth into golden skin. Billy jumps, not expecting the blunt edges of bone. Steve doesn’t bite him. Just pants with his mouth open as Billy’s hands tighten around his neck. His whines turn desperate and needy between his shy chirps until they strangle a little. Steve bucks hard against him again, body only understanding he needs air, and then Billy relaxes his grip. Doesn’t take it away, just relaxes so Steve sags against him again. He’s a beautiful weight. A beautiful sight pressed to golden skin and body hair, Billy still painfully hard. His rut will keep him like that, ready to fill any clutch available. Steve’s soon enough. Soon is almost now.

Right thumb straining up to tickle under Steve’s ear, Billy asks thickly, “Want me to do that again? I’ve been thinking about it, you know. Since you offered your neck to me.” Billy’s fingers dent Steve’s throat when they dig in a bit. “Thinking about how I wanna hold you down by this pretty throat of yours while you take your first knot. So I can feel it when you scream my name.”

The loudest chirp yet as Steve trembles, and then with a wanton groan, “Alpha!”

Billy drawls, “That too,” also with the slickest grin yet, palms tingling where they cup the aftershocks of that wild cry.

Maybe his rut is too potent for Steve. Maybe Steve is extra sensitive to it. Whatever the case, Steve is a puddle against him like back in the car. Only now each exhale against Billy’s thigh carries a hungry moan, a chirp when one slips out. Distantly through his fog, Billy recalls Steve mentioning he chirps while in heat. It’s a thought that tightens Billy’s hands around Steve’s throat again. To cut off the next chirp and hold it struggling between his palms.

Oh, to share their heats and ruts together. At the same time. With Steve on birth control, it wouldn’t matter how many times Steve’s sweet clutch took his knot. It wouldn’t matter. He could take care of the omega like he’s supposed to. Billy craves for a time when their cycles sync up. If only so that he can capture that magic with Steve at least once.

Riding the wave of that hunger, Billy tears Steve away from him. Not as punishment, no, just to hurry this along. He knows exactly what he wants to do to Steve next, needs the omega’s jeans and underwear gone for it. Billy would bet the keys to the Camaro that Steve’s never been eaten out. No way the ice queen would ever give Steve that pleasure, probably thinks it’s beneath her. Just use Steve for whatever she wants and then never give back. Just take, take, take…

His whimpered name, loneliness creeping into Steve’s excitement, breaks that circling thought. At some point, Billy’s strength had taken over, gone into autopilot, and shoved Steve’s back flat to the bed. Now he straddles the worried omega’s chest, knees almost in Steve’s underarms. Billy shakes the cold edges of his hatred away and turns himself warm and soft to Steve again. Naked knees slip down, down and away over Steve’s grey sheets until Billy is flush on top of Steve, nosing his hairline. He’s probably smearing sticky precome all over the front of Steve’s jeans, the skin just above his belt. Nothing a shower later can’t fix, which Steve will need when he can stand again. Whenever that will be.

With Billy’s weight on him, secure once more, the loneliness dissipates as quickly as it’d wafted in. Steve only hesitates through the first few drags of Billy’s cheek over his temples, his hair. The alpha’s purr is inescapable at this point, the vibrations sinking through their bare chests and into Steve’s bones. Steve bucks a few laughs under him, ticklish for sure, and Billy wiggles down only so that he can draw his lips over pink heat in Steve’s cheek. Finally, the two marks on that fair skin as his, and Billy makes an animal of himself when he licks them.

Voice still laughing, Steve asks, “Oh my god, did you just lick me?”

“Yea, what’re you gonna do about it, pretty boy?”

Lick him back apparently, and Billy grimaces through the whole thing as Steve leaves a wet stripe on his cheek.

Eye closed above the damage, Billy grumbles, “Brat,” before swinging a hand up to nudge spit off his cheek. “Can’t believe you did that…”

“You started it!”

But Steve is all laughter in his eyes and grins on those pretty lips. Happy for the first time in hours. Billy had watched him dance, gay and foolish, mindless of what was to come. 

That happiness reels Billy in, because he wants a taste of it, wants to keep it for himself. His weight may be too much for Steve like this. The omega makes no obvious objections as Billy hovers with barely any breathing room just at Steve’s lips. Billy has faked so many kisses already tonight. He wants the real thing, of course. He tilts his head just so, eyes heavily lidded and grin casual. Teasing. Lips parted to show his teeth in that grin, Billy nudges himself closer like he’ll kiss Steve. Steve stays still at first, just blinking up at him. He catches on eventually, and those pretty lips tug up into their own smirk. Steve’s arms coming to life and slinging low around Billy’s waist startle him. Steve darts up to take advantage.

It’s a chaste, little thing. Steve knows this dance well, catches Billy’s bottom lip between his so sweetly. Just the barest pressure, suckling delicately before teeth graze him. Steve heaves a great breath through his nose and muffles a groan when he presses harder, neck craning up to feel more. Billy half expects a hand to cradle the back of his head. But no, Steve’s hands are warm and alive in the small of Billy’s back even when the kiss ends, when Steve looks up at him with brown hair trying to flop into his face. Stars and haze in his eyes.

Blinking some of that haze away, Steve murmurs, “And how long have you wanted to do that?”

Steve is a strangely good kisser, and Billy is almost offended by it. Makes sense, though, loose with his affection until Wheeler, looking for it in all the wrong places. Billy just huffs and dips down for his own kiss, taking no time to lap filthy and loud between Steve’s lips when they part. He eats up Steve’s squeak and feeds him a deep groan in return. Steve’s happy hum tingles along their lips, sweet and a little high. They pull back with a wet noise between them, Steve looking down when Billy tries to catch his gaze. Billy allows it, bumps their noses before he sits up. Out of kissing range but not up and back like how he’ll need to. To continue.

“Hmmm,” Billy hums, pretending to think about it. “Probably since my first day here when I was chewing gum and caught you watching me for a real. Long. Time.”

Be punctuates those words with a pop of his hips, rutting himself against Steve. Steve sputters at first, caught up in the words, but he moans by the second buck of Billy’s hips. It’s all Billy gives him despite Steve trembling and nearly pouting up at Billy. It sends a pleasant flush of desire down Billy’s spine to know Steve actively wants this. Doesn’t need persuading or convincing. He just wants it.

“Told you I wanted you for a while now.” Billy drags himself down and then hovers above Steve. Billy makes sure to keep Steve pinned with all the heavy eye contact he can take. “Glad I didn’t have to wait too long to make you mine, and now we can make up for lost time. Right baby?”

Steve nods and shivers when Billy pets the heat in his cheek. He kneels above Steve once more—between Steve’s thighs instead of straddling him. Flipping Steve over is in his immediate future, so boxing the omega in between his knees wouldn’t have lasted long. He’s still plenty hungry for Steve, wants to peel the last of his clothes off. Wants to know if there’s a sticky mess in the seat of his underwear. All because of Billy; for Billy.

Thick fingers make quick work of Steve’s jeans, his belt still open and button still popped. That seems like forever ago, and Billy barely remembers doing that. It’s his rut bearing faster and harder down on him. His memories of the party and of comforting Steve will remain. Their arrival in Steve’s car, though? Blurry at best, a smear at worst. He’s not even entirely sure they’d driven Steve’s car. Billy doesn’t have time or patience for all that, though. He has a sweet, needy omega under him arching and cooing as he’s striped. There are better things to tend to. Delicious, terrible things. 

Billy leaves Steve in his underwear, wanting to luxuriate over peeling the blue shorts off him. Steve’s jeans make a satisfying splat of denim when they hit the floor. His belt buckle thunking immediately after startles them, shock of it too loud in the lonely house. It’s the first time all night Billy feels uneasy. He blames Steve’s secrets that he’s keeping, how he flinches at random noises. The thing that so obviously bothers him but he can’t talk about. Humming with all that nakedness sort of cowering under him, Billy makes a choice. When he’d carried Steve in here, his eyes caught the boombox sitting dusty on Steve’s dresser. And its milk-crate mate of cassette tapes on the floor. They could do with at least a little background noise. 

Billy has to soothe a distressed whine, first, swooping down to snatch Steve up in mean, biting kisses. And his lovely omega groans through each bite, each dart of tongue between his lips, filthy like Billy’s already fucking him. They’re on the cusp of that, and Billy gives his own groan into the kiss. His hardon hurts now, needs relief sooner rather than later. Billy will hold out if only to lavish Steve with attention and help him relax. His first knot is a big deal, and Billy wants him to remember it fondly. 

“I’m not leaving,” he drawls against Steve’s bitten lips, laughing lightly when Steve tries to kiss him through each word. “I’m gonna put some music on, cuz you’re getting jumpy and antsy.”

Steve bows his head, mutters, “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Billy nuzzles his forehead and then removes himself completely. “I’ll chalk it up to nerves about me knotting you instead of whatever it is you can’t tell me.”

He doesn’t mean for that to sound bitter. He values honesty and transparency perhaps too much at this stage in their lives. Teenagers lie all the time, breathe them like air. And it’s not even that Steve is lying. He just can’t be honest, and in Billy’s book, that’s almost just as bad. He won’t let this ruin a good time, though. Overlooking this is easy with his rut screaming down his neck, demanding he roll that pretty little thing over and fill him up again and again. Which he intends to. Billy already knows he won’t be going to school tomorrow. He’ll be keeping Steve by his side, too, only Steve doesn’t know it yet. 

Squatting at the milk crate, Billy doesn’t have the time to make a face over Steve’s choice in music. It figures Steve would have shitty taste, but it’s fine. It would be silly to think Steve is perfect. Billy picks the least pop thing in the milk crate—a cassette of Chris Squire’s solo album of all fucking things, why does Steve even have this—and shrugs. Could be worse. He slaps it in, pleased to find the A side is wound to the beginning, and then takes the two steps needed to hop back into Steve’s bed. 

Steve blinks and then frowns in the direction of the synth and Rickenbacker playing softly from the boombox, “Hold Out Your Hand” opening the album powerful and strong. 

“Why’d you pick this? I only listen to this when I’m high…”

Billy shrugs while brushing Steve’s thighs open, pleased when they part without an instant of hesitation. 

“It’s better than fucking Madonna and all the other garbage you have in there.” Billy hooks his fingers in the elastic of Steve’s underwear, gives it a tug while waggling his eyebrows. “Not exactly mood music, but it’ll do. Won’t be able to hear it over you moaning my name soon anyway. I’m gonna eat you up, pretty boy.”

Not literally, but Steve’s shiver makes him think Steve believes it. Making a show of licking his teeth, Billy drops his intimidating gaze to a treasure trail growing up Steve’s flat belly and how it disappears into his underwear. Billy reveals more of it, widening inch by inch until it’s just trimmed, black hair. Of course Steve grooms. Billy’s smirk almost sours when he thinks about why Steve would groom, for whom. It doesn’t matter now that Steve is his—plus maybe Steve just likes his body this way. Whatever.

Steve doesn’t disappoint Billy, not in the slightest, when he finishes dragging down his underwear. It’s a tangle of legs as Steve tries to be helpful and wiggle out of his shorts. Billy ducks out of the way of a rogue foot coming straight for his face. But they’re all soft smiles and amused, light laughter once Steve is free. It’s fun, they’re having fun together. And of course Billy holds on to Steve’s blue shorts long enough to catch, sure enough, the slick spot in the bottom. Steve sees it too and slaps both hands over his face. His palms catch his embarrassed groan. 

“Don’t look at that,” Steve pleads, probably pouting behind his hands. “That’s so gross…”

Billy’s purr starts back up like it’d never stopped as he rubs his thumb in the sticky mess. He stares at the back of Steve’s pretty hands the entire time, waiting for the omega to peek between his fingers. Steve gives it to him, that brief glance and another groan, part embarrassed but part aroused, too. Billy will stop just short of holding Steve’s underwear to his face to breathe in the thick smell of him. He’d rather get it from the source anyway, just needs Steve to flip over. 

Billy’s voice is gravel when he drawls, “It’s not gross, baby, it’s the hottest thing I’ve seen all night. How long have you been wet, huh?” Billy’s free hand slips up the delicate inside of Steve’s knee to his inner thigh. Up, up until thick fingers brush black hair, not yet reaching between. “Haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already like this. Bet I wouldn’t even need to use my fingers, I could just slide right in, huh?”

Billy wouldn’t normally call a dick pretty, but every part of Steve is to him. Especially right now when Steve twitches from promising words. Steve is half hard from what little they’ve done. Probably feeding off all the take-claim-need choking the air. All thanks to Billy’s rut and his ravenous desire. His desires tear at him in so many directions—wanting to just fuck Steve now, or blow him, or eat him out as planned—but he must stay the course.

He just angles all that hunger at the shy peek of doe eyes between Steve’s fingers. They snap shut, though, and cut off their heavy stare. It’s no matter; Billy just redirects all his blue fire down to the V of Steve’s legs. It’s a shame he isn’t prying Steve open and to see how wet and ready he is. Yet. 

“Wish I’d known sooner how bad you needed me, baby, woulda given you something to take the edge off.” Billy’s fingers twitch that much closer, and he swallows a groan when Steve’s legs part that much wider—welcoming him. Lower and with a growl, Billy teases, “Can’t wait to bury my knot in that wet, little clutch of yours and fill you up like you need, make a mess outta you over and over until you’re dripping. You want that, don’t you.”

It’s not a question, because Billy already knows the answer. Steve doesn’t need to give him a nod. He tastes and smells it, now, so sweet and clean. Just raw want, the ache of being empty and needing an alpha, a knot, to soothe that burning pain. It must be bad, now, because despite Steve’s blush climbing back into his ears, he whimpers and parts his legs as wide as they’ll go. Billy can’t stop himself, can’t hold back the possessive growl that tears his voice to shreds. He throws Steve’s underwear to the floor and then digs both hands into pert cheeks, hiking Steve’s lower body up and thumbing him open. 

“Fuck,” punches out of him. 

It’s more than he’d thought. He expected maybe a bit of shine. That he would have to squeeze and fondle Steve to get more. Not so. Slick weeps from him already, making a mess from the smooth space where balls would be if Steve weren’t an omega and all up the crack of his ass. Billy just stares not breathing for a spell. Too long, because Steve trembles in his hands and his thighs flinch shut. Shy and ashamed of his body, sweet arousal spiking down with that shame. 

“No, no, shhh none of that,” Billy praises him, hops closer to drape Steve’s legs over his crossed ones to keep the omega near and open. Billy pets his thumbs up Steve’s ass, edging where shiny slick sticks to him, and purrs, “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, Steve, you’re driving me crazy, just look at you fuck…”

Trembling all the harder, Steve whines, “It’s gross…”

And that breaks Billy’s heart. To hear the self-hatred, the false-truth in those few words. Steve really believes his body’s response—his natural response to Billy and everything they are together—is disgusting and should be ignored. Avoided. Billy latches on to that heartache instead of the rage that wants to butt in. Steve doesn’t need his snapping jaws and raised hackles. The time for that has passed, and so Billy hikes Steve’s body higher so he can kiss the ball of a knee. 

“Hush your mouth,” he says gently. “You know that's bullshit.”

Steve flinches hard, whimpers and tries to curl up even more. Thanks to Billy, Steve’s legs can’t quite close where they bend at the knee in the air. Misery adds to the thick ring of shame around his neck. A misstep. 

Lips pursed over his mistake, Billy tries again with acceptance-desire-good pouring out of him, “I love the way your body responds to me. It’s supposed to do this, Steve, it’s natural when you’re around an alpha who wants you and you want them. You know why you get wet like this, right?”

Steve is still so tense Billy is waiting for something to break or snap. Shoulders in his ears, Steve shakes his head no. 

Another sigh and then, “It’s to get you ready for a knot. So it feels good when an alpha pops into you, cuz there’s a good chance you’ll get stuck.”

So bitter Billy tastes it, Steve mumbles behind his hands, “I wouldn’t know, remember?”

Shaking his head unseen, Billy just stares down at his hands on porcelain skin. Billy tilts his head the other way and shifts his left hand down. Better reach. He pays no mind to Steve’s initial twitch and then scared whine when his thumb catches another bead of slick pouring out of him. The pad of Billy’s thumb drags slickness back to the omega’s hole and rubs around and around, maddening circles just teasing the sore rim. It must hurt so badly with how eager Steve is. His brain doesn’t think so, but the rest of him knows what he wants. Blue eyes zipping up to the trembling backs of Steve’s hands, Billy presses his thumb to weak resistance. Just to see what Steve will do. 

A broken noise muffled in Steve’s palms takes away from how his body flutters and twitches under Billy’s thumb. He can’t even enjoy it with Steve distraught like this. Still, Billy leaves it there with all the same pressure and intent, letting Steve squirm. 

Humming and nipping soft skin at Steve’s knee, Billy purrs again, “Hush, lovely omega, I’m not gonna hurt you. You know I’m not, you trust me, don’t you?”

It’s trust won through trauma rather than time, but it’s trust. And Steve doesn’t hesitate to nod. Billy pets over his rim again and feels a curl of deep pleasure when Steve relaxes. If only slightly, but he relaxes all the same. Billy could dip his thumb in if he wanted…

“So you gotta trust that I want you, I want your body exactly how it is right now. I could have anyone, Steve, and they’d gladly let me. But I want you.” He presses firm once more to that sore spot and smiles when Steve finally sags weightless back to the bed. Even flops his hands to the sheets, although he doesn’t open his eyes. “Everything I’ve said tonight is true, Steve. I don’t lie. Even if you can’t see yourself the way I do, can’t you see how much I want you?”

Billy dares to press that much harder, hisses when Steve’s body starts to give, and then relishes the omega’s wailed, “Yes!”

He kisses Steve’s skin again, purring, “Good omega,” and then finally takes his hands away. Steve shudders and whines, but Billy’s hands are greedy as they swipe up his thighs, belly, and chest. Not reaching for rosy-brown nipples, not yet, but they’re in Billy’s plans. By the end of the night, he’ll know every inch of Steve. And Steve will know him and see him. 

Hovering above Steve on his knees, Billy pets the knob of bones hidden under Steve’s skin at his hips and murmurs, “I’m gonna turn you over, get you nice and comfortable while I show you how much I want you. Just let me take care of you, baby, I won’t let you down. I’ll give you everything you need, everything you don’t even know you need.”

Nodding wildly, pushing his sorrow away instead of drowning in it, Steve begs, “Fuck, it hurts so bad, it-it doesn’t hurt this much unless I’m-please Billy god…”

“I know, I know,” he simpers right back, purr creeping in when Steve moves with him, helping Billy roll him onto his front. “I know exactly what you need, I’ll make it go away soon, baby, I promise. You’re gonna love this.”

He needs pillows under Steve. Sure, his hands guide Steve embarrassing and squirming onto his knees, ass canted and in the air. But he knows Steve won’t be able to hold the position for long. Not with tongue and fingers teasing him, he’ll collapse right back to the bed. Billy snatches Steve's usual pillow and the other one that is thick with the omega’s scent. They end up piled right under Steve’s cock pointed down. Billy leaves the two that stink of him up at Steve’s face, a smile creeping in when he watches Steve cuddle up to one and wrap his arms around it. He nuzzles it and mixes the smell of them together even though it’s a poor stand-in for Billy. 

At least he’s not lonely with them positioned like this. Billy had worried briefly that Steve would whine and panic like every time Billy separated them. He must be sinking back into the energy between them. Steve’s whole room is awash in the thick fog of them. He’ll have to wash his sheets a few times, may never truly rid his mattress of them. Just how Billy wants it as he sits between Steve’s knees sunk into the bed. Steve does give him a tiny, curious sound, but big hands petting up and down his thighs settle him once more. 

Those hands seek his pert ass again, hold him obscene and wide so Billy can look at him. Steve squirms but does not object. Billy bites back a grin as he watches the omega’s pretty cock sway with each tremble. How Billy is still holding back, he doesn’t know, should be tearing Steve apart and shaking the walls of his big, empty house with their moans. Instead, he takes his time just watching Steve squirm and leak. Because Steve knows he’s watching. Even with a blushing cheek shoved into the pillow and eyes softly shut, Steve knows he’s watching to drink his fill. 

“Beautiful,” Billy sighs with his voice rough and almost breaking at the end. Too excited, too eager to keep it level. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

He blows a cool stream of air where Steve is practically dripping, just to catch Steve’s startled flinch in his hands. Billy shoves him up higher, bowing Steve’s back exactly how he wants. He hops as close as he can, letting the heat of his body wash over Steve. It’s simple enough then to lean down and brush a kiss over a cheek. Another and another until Steve gets used to it and stops wiggling. His tenor whines are adorable—he has no idea what Billy’s intentions are. The thrill of it drives Billy past foreplay, past beating around the bush. Steve’s yelp is delayed after Billy laps filthy and long over his wet hole. 

“Jesus, what…!”

A nip to a cheek and a purred, “Hush,” before Billy dives right back in. Just licking for now, letting the sensation sink in. 

“Billy oh-oh my god, what are you hnnn…”

Billy’s tongue flicks harder over his rim this time. Touching nerves Steve may not even be aware of, sensitive where he probably never touches himself. May not even fill his own need during his heats, too ashamed to play where even his alpha wouldn’t. That won’t happen ever again. Billy promises that with the purr that erupts out of him and how he presses the vibrations right where Steve needs them. Words fail the poor omega, leave him a whining, keening mess. Billy wants the sweetness of a chirp, wants it enough to dig his fingers into pale skin and wiggle the point of his tongue hard against Steve’s entrance. Squirming and slipping through slick, more and more as Steve’s resistance trembles. 

Nails in Steve’s skin scratch just enough to sting, and it rips a long moan out of him. It’s the extra sensation Billy needs to win Steve over as the omega relaxes just enough. If he’s wet between his cheeks then he’s dripping inside, flinching and twitching on something new. Billy can’t contain his own moan as he presses his face deeper. His chin will be slick by the time he’s done with Steve, but he doesn’t care. Let it drip and run down his throat, his chest for all he cares. He laps it all up and purrs harder, louder with his lips tight to Steve and his tongue spearing in and out, lighting quick.

Steve’s strength abandons him. His thighs shake too much to keep himself up. Another whimper, so pitiful and needy, gimme more, I need you, deeper, more! Steve wobbles on his knees as they give out, too. He’d slide flat to the bed if not for the wall of desire and muscle behind him. And the pillows surely sticky from his pretty dick rubbing all over them. Billy is quick to snake out his right arm under Steve’s hips to keep him up—he’s not done with the omega yet. The left holds him open, ready to dip fingers in where his tongue makes a mess of Steve. Soon. 

“Billy,” Steve slurs somewhere at the headboard with his head spinning, body quivering when it can’t keep him up on his knees. “Oh god…”

It’s almost a sob, and Billy relents. Not for Steve’s sake but his own. Billy sink his teeth into a cheek and just takes a few breaths to keep it together. He could make Steve come on his tongue, sure. He hadn’t counted on the throb, the jolt between his own legs from just tasting Steve. From hearing how sweetly he whines, not understanding the pleasure but giving himself over to it. He’s completely pliant and trusting in Billy’s hands, and Billy has to bite him harder. He’s never come this fast, and he’s not about to start now. Not that he couldn’t come again, but…

Left hand almost shaking, Billy returns to his worship with fingers and tongue working together. Steve jumps alive and straining with thick fingers mixed in with the tongue that still circles him. Billy makes a game of it, grinning when his first two fingers seek out a sensitive spot he’d tripped over and just rock gently against Steve’s rim. Steve responds in kind on his weak knees as he sways to Billy’s movements. It’s perfect. A preview of what he’s about to do to Steve. Just like that, all of Billy’s desires to hold Steve down and give it to him hard like he deserves come rushing back. His hands itch anew for Steve’s throat, body throbbing to make Steve his. So as much as he enjoys twirling and stabbing his tongue into Steve, he slows to a stop and pulls back. 

His fingers remain. They dip easy and loud into Steve, and Billy’s eyes almost flutter shut when clear slick gushes at the intrusion. Billy fights the tightness that snaps around him, tugging down to force Steve’s body open. He’s too tight to just fuck right into him. A bolt of anger tries to soil the generous desire-claim choking the air around him. Steve wouldn’t be so wound tight, so ashamed if—

Billy bites it back, snarls and shoves thoughts of anyone other than Steve away. No more of that! His anger has no place here. No, just his unabashed desire for this treasure splayed out before him. And the need to satisfy his own instincts but also meet Steve’s—comfort and safety, to make sure the omega knows he is wanted, needed. Shuddering with two fingers sunk to the last knuckle, Billy pulls out to return with another. There’s no rush. He’s practically numb to the pain between his legs, been going from half hard to this for hours. It’s maddening, he’s going crazy from the thick smell of them together, but he can’t hurt Steve. Not like this, never like this. 

“Steve,” he breathes, biting the corner of his mouth when Steve chirps so pretty for him. “You still with me, baby?”

He drags his gaze lazy and syrupy away from the obscene spread of his fingers inside Steve. It’s not the easiest thing to do. Billy could spend hours playing with Steve’s body and make him come on fingers or tongue alone. He wants more, though, needs to know Steve wants more. He has no problem with fucking a blissed omega and dealing with the upset later. It’s cruel of him, but he can’t find it in himself to care too much. He’s not so cruel that he won’t take care to tend to Steve’s needs. Blue eyes have to try twice to focus on Steve’s blushing face shoved into a pillow. His cheek is fat where he leans his weight into it, silly with him red to his hairline. But he’s beautiful and blissed out to Billy. The picture of perfection. 

Billy crooks his fingers where he’s been avoiding touching Steve this whole time and grins when it earns him a loud chirp. 

“Feels good, huh?”

Steve quivers that much harder and manages a nod in his pillow. He’s got the case in his mouth, chewing and suckling where Billy’s scent lingers. Something in Billy’s gut knocks hard—a punch or a kick, both. He wants Steve now, now is the time, and he allows Steve’s tight body to push him out. Intense eyes zap back to that poor, empty hole as it twitches on nothing. Not for long. Not with Billy tuning back into the heavy ache between his own legs that won’t relent for anything less than Steve right now. 

Voice bottoming out, Billy shuffles behind Steve, positioning them, and murmurs, “I’ll make you feel even better, baby, just hold on and relax, you know I would never hurt you, just wanna make you feel good, I know you can be good for me, yea? You gonna be my good omega, Steve?”

A nod, but it’s not enough. The crack of Billy’s hand on Steve’s ass is a plate shattering on a kitchen floor. Steve’s wild keen that melts into another chirp makes the smart pain in Billy’s hand all worth it. 

“Ah-ah, baby, you know the rules.” Billy rocks up on his knees until his shadow spills over Steve’s trembling back. Both hands on Steve’s ass help urge him down and firm into the pillows. Then, Billy follows down, down, until his lips caress the shell of Steve’s ear. “Say it.”

Billy pops his hips forward, knows the wet head of his prick drags a mess over Steve’s ass. Poking him. Insistent. 

Drunken and slurred, Steve pants with his cheek still shoved to the pillow and pleads, “I-I’ll be good, I promise!”

Below, Billy’s left hand lifts for another smack. 

Another chirp. 

Steve’s voice is broken and all over the place when he wails, “I’ll be good, alpha, please please oh god Bi-alpha, please!”

He rewards Steve with a purr while curling over his back again, hands in the bed this time. All that porcelain and glaze quivers that much harder with the phantom weight of an alpha bearing down on him. Some part of Steve knows what’s about to happen to him. The wild, animal part that is only concerned with staying alive and fucking. It’s about to get what it wants. 

Still hovering above Steve, Billy switches which hand is sunk into the bed to prop him up. He frees his left this way and doesn’t hesitate to take himself in hand. Out of habit, he strokes himself a few times. He doesn’t need it, is dizzy from how hard he is. All for Steve. Billy shudders above the omega while playing with himself. Only a little, only to tease himself for something even better.

Down and away, Billy sits up and lets cool air rush in to take his place. Steve needs it going off how red his face and throat are. Doe eyes tightly shut as he pants, Steve is oblivious to the world. Billy doesn’t try to coax him back to reality, allows Steve the safety of blissful pleasure. He throbs in his own hand, aching to be in his rightful place, sunk so deep in Steve he’ll feel Billy in every inch of his skin. Biting the corner of his mouth, Billy holds Steve open again and nudges the blood-hot head of his dick to that loose hole. Rubbing around and around, pressing forward with his fingers tight under his head so he doesn’t slip. Just a little more, more weight, pushing that much harder, and Steve’s body trembles where it begins to open.

Steve jumps like a shock and tenses hard. He rocks away from Billy, actually shakes hair out of his eyes and opens them. All the while, Billy cranes forward on his knees, his weight behind his pelvis as he nudges harder against that tight ring. Why is Steve tight again…

And then through the fog in his head, Steve’s voice pleads to him, “—wait, wait, not like this, stop Billy, please stop, I don’t-I don’t wanna do it like this, oh god please don’t!”

Terrible fear, distress rank like roadkill, smacks Billy right in the face. He can’t rip himself away from Steve fast enough. Balance tipped back, Billy falls on his ass and has to shake his lust away to clear his head. It’s a marvel he’d heard Steve at all. Now he can’t turn his ears off to the cowering omega trying to curl up and protect himself. When… when had this happened? Steve wanted him literally seconds ago? Was he not obvious and forthcoming about this? Why the distress, why is he curled up so tightly trying to make himself smaller?

From the boombox, Chris Squire still rocks on, ‘You and I, the more we strive in our search for truth, love and honesty, could be, lucky tonight.’ The tape is on the B side. Billy is immediately thankful he’d slapped something into the tape deck. Silence right now would drive him mad as he watches Steve shake.

“Steve?”

Billy is back up on his knees, crawling the short distance to Steve’s head before he knows what he’s doing. He dents the mattress with his weight and sends Steve’s tense form rocking. They’re back in the fucking BMW all over again with Steve scared and unhappy. Billy could just strangle himself, but he won’t. Instead, lying awkwardly on his left arm, the right reaches out so carefully for hair stuck to Steve’s forehead. He barely caresses the sweaty strands when brown eyes peer open. They take him in, recognize him, and then Steve cuddles right up to him. 

It’s overly warm with the omega tucked to his chest, Steve nosing at his throat. Blinking into the soft dimness of Steve’s room beyond, Billy just lets him. His right arm is unnaturally stiff where it doesn’t quite drape over Steve’s side. He’s not… sure if he should hold Steve. If he’s allowed. Steve makes the decision for him, drawing bitten lips over scent glands and chirping right against them. It’s okay, I’m okay now, please hold me, I want you to, please alpha. 

And the alpha in Billy can’t say no to comforting him. He doesn’t so much as crush Steve to him as he reels the omega in that much closer. And Steve… smiles where he’s tucked to Billy’s throat. It doesn’t make much sense to Billy who only now tunes into Steve’s scent going pleasant and happy again. It’s timid, but his awful distress is entirely gone. Like it’d never happened. Billy is… more than a little confused. 

“Are you… okay?”

Steve nods where he’s still mouthing up and down Billy’s neck. 

“… Was I hurting you?”

He doesn’t think so, and the relief that washes over him is like a drug when Steve shakes his head hard.

“Okay… I don’t understand.”

Steve sighs through the last brush of his mouth over Billy’s Adam’s apple and then he comes out of his hiding place. He sheepishly meets Billy’s painfully confused frown. 

“I… freaked out, I guess. I just didn’t wanna uh… do it like that. With you behind me. I was asking you what you were doing, if we could-if we could do it a different way, but I don’t think you heard me…”

‘Please don’t!’

Billy blinks hard and then away, the first time he’s broken their stare. 

“I didn’t hear you,” he admits. “I didn’t hear you until the end when you sounded scared… Just punch a guy the next time that happens.”

Steve snorts.

“What, you think I didn’t consider that?”

“If a guy was trying to stick his dick in me and I didn’t want it, he’d have a world of hurt coming his way. And I wouldn’t think about it, I’d just do it.”

Steve blurts out a nervous laugh, hand reaching up to play with his hair. 

“I didn’t wanna hurt you, though. I wasn’t like  _ scared _ -scared, you weren’t forcing me or anything. I just didn’t like how it felt. To not… you know. Being able to see you and stuff. I like facing people when I’m having sex.”

Billy nods once, still not sure, and grumbles a low, “My bad.”

A cheek brushes his. So tender and careful, Steve comforting him now. But he recalls warmly what he’d said to Steve, about Steve distressing him just as much as the other way around. Upset alphas need comfort and reassurance, too. And he takes it with an embarrassed huff and grumbled noises in Steve’s ear. It’s a better apology, more heartfelt than Billy’s words. Not that he doesn’t mean it, of course he does. He would never hurt Steve like that, hates himself for even this mishap. But Steve goes right on nuzzling him and smiling into each touch, so Billy lets it go. He stopped. That’s what matters. 

“I don’t wanna-we don’t have to stop,” Steve admits with his lips almost brushing the shell of Billy’s ear. So shy and yet eager, one of his hands drifting up to settle on Billy’s hip. “I just wanna face you is all, I’m okay, really, you didn’t hurt me.”

A shudder gallops wild and free through Billy, starting under Steve’s gentle hand and then radiating everywhere. He nods and then turns his mouth to catch whatever of Steve he can get at. His cheek at first, but Steve does him one better and gives his lips in eager kisses. He doesn’t seem to mind or care where Billy’s mouth has been. Oh yea, Steve is pretty fucking good at this. How silly of him to have already forgotten. It’s back and forth, their heads bobbing together to chase each other in and out the divide between them. A simple sort of pleasure that produces a quiet, tentative purr. Louder when Steve hums against him. They clog the air around them once more with equal parts of desire and acceptance. And with Steve’s happy noises to go with his scent sweetening again, Billy finds himself hard against Steve’s hip. They don’t have to stop. Steve doesn’t want to stop.

“Okay,” Billy husks when they finally separate, although Steve steals more chaste kisses as Billy tries to organize his damn thoughts. His mistake may have jarred him out of his stupor, but his rut is still heavy in his mind and under his skin. “Okay, then we won’t stop. You want me to face you? Anything else?”

Color returns pretty and pink in Steve’s cheeks. He bites himself, looking away, but shakes his head after a thought.

“Nope, nope, just wanna be able to see you and hug you and stuff. I’m a fucking sap, so…”

“No you’re not,” he hisses. He’s in Steve’s space immediately to roll them until he’s flush on top of Steve. A little calmer he adds, “And even if you are, that’s not a bad thing. If that’s what you like during sex, then it’s what you like. You don’t have to defend it.”

“You don’t think it’s… dumb?”

There’s a story there. Somewhere. More shame. But Billy has promised himself to not allow the ice queen any more intrusions into their night. So he doesn’t let the thought marinate.

“No, I don’t. You’ll be surprised when we’re done I like cuddling. A lot.”

That perks Steve right up, like Billy couldn’t have said anything better. He rises back and up at that point, knees straddling Steve’s thighs. And Steve sits up with him, expression curious and excited.

“Really?”

An eyebrow cocks high on Billy’s forehead. 

“Yea really. Is that a surprise to you?”

Steve’s expression just as quickly falls, and Billy feels his teeth ache, hoping Steve doesn’t tell him something about that bitch but then also wanting to tear her down. But he’d promised.

“It doesn’t matter,” Billy excuses quickly, before Steve can work something up to say. “I like cuddling after sex, you like facing people during. We like what we like, and now I ask that we get to that part, because I’m about to pass out from how hard I am.”

As if Steve had forgotten all about it, his chin drops to his chest so he can stare with huge eyes at Billy’s erection. Still full and standing between his legs, still blushing madly where blood pools in the skin. 

“How are you still hard?” Steve asks softly, more to himself than Billy.

“Rut,” Billy grunts, tuning back into the heavy pain of not coming for so long, for being aroused for literally hours. It aches worst in his balls, and judging by Steve’s wince, maybe he understands that. “It sucks for us alone too. Omega heats are just played up a lot more. People sell a lot of smut thanks to that.”

Steve nods slow and vague like he’s not listening. Which he’s probably not, too focused on said erection. Watching clear precome well up at the slit and decide which way it’s going to dribble down Billy’s cock. Billy is all painful grimaces and grumbling on his knees even while he watches Steve’s hand drift up from the bed and wrap around him. The shock of it sends Billy seizing just once. The headboard bangs against the wall. A preview of what’s to come.

“Jesus Steve,” he hisses. Steve’s hand is still for a second more before he stokes Billy with the same practiced ease as earlier. “Ah fuck, come on pretty boy…”

“It really hurts for you too?”

Billy has to blink haze out of his eyes to hear that. It doesn’t make sense to him, but it’s what gets him to comprehend what Steve's just said. Like turning his radio down to park or while he’s looking for a new place. It’s a sad sort of question. Lonely. As lonely as it can feel with Steve’s fist still pumping lazily up and down his cock, avoiding the head like a tease. 

“Y-yea, baby, hurts a lot, especially when we go it alone.” He shudders huge and deep like a big cat, shoulder blades dancing under golden skin to work out the tension. “Hands can’t really replicate what we need, so it’s a lot of disappointing jacking off and you don’t even come most of the time so.”

Steve’s carefully blank face crumbles at that. Sympathetic, because no one would understand Billy’s frustration better than Steve. He swipes his thumb in a familiar way, spreading precome around, and then his hand is gone. Billy almost passes out for real when Steve considers the mess on his thumb and then shows no qualms about sucking the skin clean. Cheeky little fucker.

“Baby, you’re killing me right now,” Billy groans. “Are we doing this or what? I’ve been dying to get a piece of you for-fucking-ever, come on.”

Steve twists at the hip and shoves the pillows around. The stolen comforter makes a semicircle around them, too, trapping the warm scents of them. It all stinks mostly like Steve, but Billy will fix that once his knot is where it belongs. He’ll kiss and cuddle Steve until Steve is squirmy and wet and just fuck him all over again. The temptation is there to lie down and let Steve ride him, let Steve do all the work. His head swims enough to make that idea tempting. But he wants to cage Steve in with his body like intimidating him into a wall at school. It’s something Billy knows he won’t give up even after today—if only to catch a spike of arousal in Steve when they play games at school.

Billy has to sink his teeth into the corner of his mouth or risk a growl to hurry Steve along. Instead, he shakes on his knees and watches Steve slip down. Get comfortable. And then smile a little shy, a lot eager, up at him.

He says nothing, opts to speak with his body instead. More pink dusts Steve’s cheeks as he looks somewhere near Billy’s jaw and slowly bends his legs. Up, up until he’s practically folding himself in half with his knees in his ears. Slim hands grab himself in the soft backs of his knees to hoist them higher, farther apart. Steve could not have constructed a more thorough, obvious welcome if he’d painted ‘come inside’ on his ass. Even in the shadow Billy casts on Steve, he spies shiny slick all up and down Steve’s ass. Still wet, still ready.

Billy only amends one part of this. He snatches one of the borrowed pillows and stuffs it under Steve’s butt. Better angle, not that Steve understands just yet. The pretty omega laughs as Billy manhandles him how he wants him—rear now slightly higher, head lower when Billy towers above him. Billy wants to take over where Steve’s hands scoop his legs all pretty like this. Out of the way for his alpha so there’s plenty of working room. And he will once he’s done carefully guiding himself into Steve, filling him up almost how he needs. Wanting Steve for so long, Billy wonders how long he’ll last for this first orgasm, this first knot.

He’ll enjoy finding out, at least. Enjoys right now the way Steve trembles and sweetens at his neck as Billy’s torso fills the space between his thighs. The graze of their skin is nails over a bad itch for Billy, and he groans low and loud just from that. Below him, Steve’s eyes are wide and rapturous. Billy thinks he could get used to that awe, how his shadow falls over Steve and paints him in low light. He’s happy he’s left the lights on so he gets to see everything. Every twitch of Steve’s face, every moan, every time his eyes roll back in his head…

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, Steve,” he sighs, left hand already slipping between them. Billy’s right is splayed for balance on the headboard. He cages Steve in, bullying him into a corner just like he’d wanted. “Beautiful and all mine. You ready for me?”

He asks that with heavy voice and heavier eye contact while rubbing his head between Steve’s cheeks again. More than before, slicker than before. The cassette isn’t loud enough to drown out the filthy, wet noises Billy makes of them. It’s all for Steve, to make him fluster and blush. Steve’s bottom lip is in his teeth in an instant, and he nods wildly. A pillow behind his head stops him from braining himself into the headboard. 

Nodding and pitching forward on his knees, spreading them so he sinks slightly lower, Billy groans, “Tell me if I’m hurting you.”

He hopes not. He won’t want to stop, he knows that much. For Steve, he would of course. It would be difficult to tear himself away from how Steve’s hips crane up to meet his teasing rubs. How Steve rocks with him, clearly wanting this just as badly. Like they’d never stopped, the air chokes between them again. Poor Steve can’t draw in a mouthful of air without tasting claim-desire. Billy hunches that much more over Steve, stops teasing the omega, and pushes forward with intent like last time. Billy is all eyes on Steve’s blushing, surprised face despite wanting to watch Steve’s body open and suck him down. Later. He can have it all, but this first time he wants to watch Steve’s face when his wet hole gives and welcomes Billy past the initial tightness. 

It’s another punch to Billy’s gut, slipping through tight rings to the warmth inside. Steve goes redder still at the burn and squeeze, and Billy’s eyes almost roll back in his head. He saves it by pure force of will, refusing to be the first to break their stare. He breathes through a gap in his lips when the crown of his head pops in. Steve trembles hard like before, no pain, no whine, and finally throws his head back with a high moan. His voice breaks when he runs out of air only to suck down more just to let his voice drag over each inhale, each exhale. 

“That’s it,” Billy husks, trying not to slide home despite Steve’s body sucking him down. Greedy. “Shhh, you’re so perfect, baby, Jesus you take me so well.” Steve shifts, impaling himself. “No, no, just keep still for a second, lemme feel you.”

Head sunk deep into the pillow, Steve trembles when he whimpers, “Full…”

Billy stoops down until Steve’s body heat rolls off him in waves. Blond curls fall over his shoulders, although it’s not enough to give them any privacy. He doesn’t need his left hand at his dick anymore and so gently nudges one of Steve’s away from his knees. Instead, both drop weightless to the bed with a plop, so Billy cups his hands under both. Billy hums as each movement shifts Steve’s body speared open on him. It’s what he’s wanted for hours, days, weeks, doesn’t know how he lived without Steve until now. That’s the rut talking, but he’s sure he doesn’t know how he’d go on without Steve. He’ll just have to ruin Steve for anyone else until the omega craves no one else. Billy shivers hard at the thought, teeth aching in his head. 

“You don’t even know… how much fuller you’re gonna get,” Billy promises with a grin, feeding more length, more thickness into Steve. “I’ll make a mess outta this greedy clutch of yours, make a mess out of you until everybody knows you’re mine.”

Chin tipped back to expose his throat, Steve whines softly, “Alpha…”

Billy gives him more and grins through the easy slide, Steve squeezing every inch that spreads him wide. 

“That’s right, my pretty omega, make all those noises for me, lemme know how good you feel. You take me so well, like you were made for me.”

He bottoms out, eyes finally fluttering, and he holds them still for a spell. His knot isn’t swelling yet, too soon for that. He can come without popping it, might just to fuck Steve through the mess and then seal it inside him like an animal. A shiver runs through Billy with a growl on its heels. It cuts off when clammy hands drag over his wrists. From under the protective wave of his hair, Steve blinks up at him with his lip in his teeth. Eager, wanting to touch Billy too just not knowing how or if he’s allowed. Billy stoops lower, grinding the base of his cock into Steve, and noses at his cheek.

“Wrap your arms around me,” Billy murmurs against that blush. “It’s okay.”

Steve does not need more encouragement than that. It must be what he’d wanted, and the echo of his request bounces around inside Billy’s fuzzy head. That Steve likes to face people during sex. To hug them. Probably kiss them, too. Billy is in the perfect position for just that, wouldn’t mind a bit of tenderness despite being balls-deep in the omega, and slots a lazy kiss to pink lips. Steve perks right up and kisses him back, happy noises and happy scent mixing into euphoria all around them. Billy shuffles on his knees to work out how he wants to do this. Kissing while pounding into Steve might get him a bitten tongue or split lip, but…

Steve’s squeal around said tongue is worth it when Billy’s hips roll back and then smack loud and wet against Steve’s ass. They’ll get the headboard rattling soon enough with Billy’s hips picking up a delicious pace—slow sliding out and then shoving back in fast. Steve’s body accepts him like a dream, tightness gliding up and down with each thrust. Billy doesn’t want to hurt him, wants to let Steve get used to so much weight and pressure inside him. A night of firsts. Steve whines high and frantic when their bodies meet, nails clawing Billy’s upper back when he shifts. Billy knows Steve wants that thickness, wants Billy buried deep inside him. Steve cries against boyish lips when Billy picks up the pace to give him what he needs.

Tearing their mouths away with spit at the corners, Billy groans, “Steve, fuck…”

His hands tremble behind Steve’s knees. He wants for more balance. To slap his hands into the bed, or Steve’s shoulders, Steve’s fucking neck so he can pound into the omega and pop moans out of him. Steve would be so pretty under him, red in the face from the pressure and mouth slack as Billy shakes his body. Every inch of him jarring from powerful hips smacking into his ass, bouncing him up the sheets. Snarling and fog heavy in his head, Billy throws Steve’s legs over his shoulders to do just that. His hands bury themselves like claws in the pillow under Steve’s head. Steve’s first wail when Billy thunders into him is the sweetest candy. 

Billy fucks each sound out of Steve when he cries, “Bi-lly, oh-oh god, oh god, al-pha!”

Billy gives him a purr, a rough, “Good boy,” and drops down to smack a single kiss to slack lips. “Beautiful omega, all mine.”

They’re sweat slicked and groan together with abandon. Billy knows he’s a loud rutter. Always has been, needs the sweet omegas under him to know how good they make him feel. How only they can give his knot what he needs to soothe that bone-deep ache. And he usually gets eager coos and chirps back. Steve is still tight lipped with them. What will it take to get Steve to open wide and let it out? Billy enjoys this brutal pace more than anyone, is going crazy from the pressure between his legs, but he wants Steve to let loose. So, he slows down and stops with himself buried as deep as he’ll go, panting chest-to-chest with Steve.

Smearing a breath and a kiss across Steve’s cheek, Billy slurs, “You’re awfully quiet, baby. What did I say about holding back?”

A huff and a whine. Billy licks over the two beauty marks on Steve’s cheek for his trouble. Steve wiggles and rocks his hips to try and fuck himself. What a brat.

“Guess I’ll just have to figure out how to get them to come out, huh?”

It’s a promise and a threat. Billy sweeps up and away, letting Steve’s legs fall off his shoulders. He rolls that broad shelf to work the burn out of it. Steve’s shoulders are damp with sweat when Billy holds them down, shuffles to keep Steve’s long body bent a little. He likes backing Steve into corners, likes watching the omega bow his head to make himself smaller when he’s intimidated. Steve does it with people no matter their status. Billy just especially likes it when Steve does it with him, gets a thrill at the subtle notion of submission. Those are almost better than blatant tokens—Steve not even aware he’s doing it. Steve does it even now, turning his head away and baring his neck. The raw desire thick at his throat calls to the ache in Billy’s teeth. Come claim me, sink your teeth into me, mark me, make me yours.

Shuddering and breathing the omega’s name, Billy leans his weight into Steve’s shoulders and rocks out. Not all the way of course, just until Steve gives him a petulant, spoiled whine for leaving him aching and almost empty. How dare Billy deny him and take his toy away. Billy gives it right back when he angles his hips up to drive the blunt head of his cock along Steve’s walls. Somewhere, he’d found it with his fingers, just needs to find it again watching Steve’s face for a sign, waiting for him to snap around the intrusion and cry out…

The headboard doesn’t rattle with Steve’s flinch only because Billy’s strength denies him. Doe eyes fly wide open, find Billy grinning filthy and devilish above him, and then Steve’s head arches back into the pillow. His moan bounces off the headboard and surrounds them, drowns out the slick noises between them and the cassette about to run out. Billy catches all that quaking energy in his hands when he does it again, rubbing himself over the omega’s sweet spot over and over. Billy keeps it up, slow back and forth roll of his hips, until a desperate chirp tears through Steve’s throat. Blue eyes watch the flutter of that throat, the roll of his Adam’s apple, and gives Steve a purr as a reward.

“There it is,” he hisses. “That’s what I’m talking about.” Billy pops his hips hard once, rushing his cock over Steve’s walls, and then returns to his slow roll in and out. Steve makes a sticky mess between their bodies, but Billy loves it. “All those pretty sounds, all for me. See how good you can be, baby? Just let it out.”

Steve’s voice cuts through a pitiful chirp long enough for him to sob, “Alpha,” before he gives right back over to them.

Grin still stretching his lips, Billy shortens his rocking to barely nudging his head right where Steve needs it. Squirming and gushing between them, shifting his hips to try and move with Billy.

“So spoiled,” Billy sighs. He smacks into Steve again to disrupt Steve’s greed and hums when Steve shudders with his little nudges again. “Think if I pulled out you’d cry?”

Eyes peering open, Steve’s pout is there in an instant and he snaps, “Shut up.”

Eyebrows going high, a challenge, Billy does just that. Steve yelps and lifts his head to stare betrayed down the length of his bent body.

“H-hey!”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Billy says simply, shrugging a shoulder. 

Steve whines and thrashes as much as Billy’s hands at his shoulders and Billy’s hips between his thighs allow.

“It was so good, why did you stop!?” He angles a bratty glare up at Billy. “I thought it hurt when you don’t get what you need.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I am in pure agony right now.” Billy’s smirk is a little deranged, rut widening his eyes and making them a little crazed. He rocks his hips forward to drag the wet, burning head of his dick behind Steve’s. Just rubbing the mess of them along smooth skin between his hole and cock. “Ask me all pretty like and I’ll fill you up again. You can pout all you want, but I know that wet clutch of yours misses me.”

Steve’s face heats up that much more, and he doesn’t have the power to do anything other than shudder and pant through his mouth. Head still turned away, Steve shuffles on his back. His shoulders must ache from the pressure of Billy’s hands. That strength chases color out of Steve’s skin and leaves him paper-white where they meet. Billy hums and slides one hand up to sink into a pillow while his left returns to the head of his dick. Just like before, he rubs himself against Steve’s loose hole. Loose enough to catch the blunt tip at the rim and try to open. Steve doesn’t rock his hips down to impale himself, though, so Billy dips in and out of that used muscle, watching doe eyes roll back, pulse fluttering in his bared throat.

“Fuck,” Steve whines with his throat almost too tight for words. “Please ohhh back inside, please…”

Billy’s voice is more purred, suggestive sound than words when he husks, “But I am inside you. Can’t you feel me?”

He feeds Steve a tiny bit more, letting his head pop in only to glide right back out. In out, in out, pop pop pop.

Steve’s head thrashes on the pillow, and he slams it into the plush thing twice for good measure.

Practically sobbing, he begs, “More, more! Fuck me, I need it, don’t stop!”

Billy tears his eyes away from Steve’s gritted teeth and pinched eyes to finally take his fill of the omega’s body. His right hand shakes when he gets Steve under a knee again, hiking the limb high and spreading Steve so he can see everything. Billy shudders, boiling heat creeping into his neck and behind his ravenous gaze, as he watches Steve’s body try to cling to him when he pulls out. The omega tightens like a vice but has no hope of holding on to velvet skin. That pretty hole is almost as red and ruined as Billy’s cock, and he wonders distantly which of them aches more.

But again, he presses forward, and Steve’s rim gives beautifully just for his head. Wet and slick and messy in and out, watching Steve tighten on nothing when he’s empty. It shouldn’t thrill him so much to watch—how obscene it is, how animalistic it is. But he can’t get enough, especially when Steve finally chirps and trills and coos at him.

“Alpha please, I need you,” he begs more, voice so broken and on the edge of a sob. Babbling, “Need you, need you inside me, please hurts so bad, want your knot, I’ll be good.” Doe eyes crack open, all amber and about to overflow so pretty and wet, when Steve adds pitifully, “I’m sorry, I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

Billy stills with his head sunk into that wet heat and purrs, “You really gonna be my good omega?”

“Yours,” Steve croaks with his eyes falling shut, not quite shedding tears but sticking his eyelashes together with them. It must embarrass him so deeply, teeth raking over his lip, when he pleads further, “All yours, please take me alpha, fucking please…”

Billy’s hands find familiar holds in the pillow on either side of Steve’s head. He’s already deep enough to not need his left to guide him all the way back. The glide of him returning, thick and burning inside Steve, rips moans out of both. He holds himself there until Steve’s wild trembling shrinks to a quiver. Until those pretty eyes open all slow like under the wave of Steve’s hair and meet his. They’re drunk and loopy. Still shining with moisture, although Billy does not fret that these are painful or distressed tears. They’re wet with need—need to fill his ache, need to make his alpha happy. Billy sinks down to slot an appreciative kiss to slack lips and starts a slow rhythm. Not what Steve wants, he knows, but it’s what he’ll give at first.

Steve’s rough whine is so sad against his lips. If he withholds from Steve much longer, plays the game for too long, Steve may get the wrong idea. Maybe think two alphas in a row, on the same night, don’t want him. Billy ends their kisses—Steve’s mouth hung open in a continuous moan, not exactly kissing back—and tucks his face to the crook of Steve’s neck. The attention he gives these dips and hollows and taut tendons is the gentle sort. Suckling kisses and barely-there drags of teeth. He laps Steve’s potent desire and contentment straight from the source. No use being coy, now, all of this belongs to him. He marks it as much with lovebites until this side of Steve’s neck is almost gruesome with purple and red. It gets Steve shaking and squirming all over again. Billy picks up a faster rhythm and bites down on Steve’s pulse to keep him still. 

The light, fluttery gasp sends a bolt of bright arousal straight behind Billy’s navel. It sinks dripping and hot like molten metal into his everything, especially where Steve’s body grips him like a vice as he thunders back inside him. They rock the bed again, shoving the mattress against the headboard and making it sway. It’ll crack into the wall soon enough. Mostly because Steve’s noises turn frantic and higher than before. Steve falters in their rhythm the longer, harder it goes on. He’ll come soon, and Billy wants to sit up to watch.

In a daze, Billy finds his hands on Steve’s shoulders again as he slams into the omega. Their bodies meeting pops a chirp out of him, finally relaxed and giving himself over to his alpha, their pleasure. They’re precious, soft things. Not softness out of shame, just soft because of Steve’s raw voice. It’s so high and darling. The perfect and needy whine that gets Billy’s hips snapping faster. He has to blink the warmth creeping into his eyes and making everything blurry like heat rising off asphalt. When he can see again, it’s to the sight of Steve reaching for his wrists on either side of the omega’s head. Steve glances shyly at him and gives his wrists a tug. To move.

Billy draws his thrusts to a halt with him buried deeply. His knot will swell soon. Already the edge of it drags like a ridge through Steve’s body when he thrusts. When it finally does plump up, he wants to fuck Steve with it slowly so he grows used to the thickness. And just before it locks, he’ll pop it in that wet clutch and make Steve come on it. Even if he thinks he can’t come again, Billy knows he will. He shudders with the thought of Steve straining and squirming on his first, full knot and coming twice so quickly. Steve whines below him, the center of his universe, and Billy shakes the fog fully from his eyes. 

Another squeeze to his wrists. Frowning, Billy shifts his balance back to sit up like Steve must want. He’ll have to do that anyway if Steve wants these hands anywhere else. Or maybe Steve wants to hold him, which he’s all for. Steve swallows hard as he holds Billy’s heavy hands by the wrist. Not limp, Billy is too tense for that, but they wait for a sign from Steve to settle wherever the omega wants. Billy blinks from on high and sways a bit on his knees. Steve tight around him is going to do his head in. The burn of his knot swelling is nothing compared to sweet, wet clutch around him. Billy shivers from that alone, but he almost falls over when Steve guides hands to his throat and then presses him there.

Steve’s hands linger around his wrists. Keeping him there. Assuring Billy he wants what he’s asking for. Billy shuffles on his knees to make sure Steve isn’t taking any of his weight at his neck. His fantasy come true—Steve becoming his had never been a fantasy; only an inevitability. Billy’s next breath is a stuttered, delicate thing. He shifts on his knees some more to work out his excited energy, gives Steve a test squeeze to see what he’ll do. Doe eyes go fluttering just like Billy’s breaths. They groan as one—Billy’s almost a bellow and Steve’s hushed. Billy catches every vibration in his palms and tries to memorize the way they tingle.

“I’m not mmm gonna hurt you,” Billy nearly growls, speech almost beyond him, will be beyond him when he finally knots Steve. “Let my wrists go and… I’ll let you go. Got it?”

He punctuates that with a squeeze. Lighter than the first, but enough to jar Steve. He gives Steve a moment to collect himself after he relaxes his hands—fingers hand over hand on the back of Steve’s neck with the heels of his palms pressing in from the sides. There’s no safe way to do this. If Billy were anyone else, he would take a timeout and explain things to Steve. The risks. But he’s Billy Hargrove, so once he has Steve’s nod, he goes right on fucking the omega and testing pressure on his throat.

Steve’s thighs jump and snap around Billy’s sides. The alpha curls down as far as he can, mindful of his hands, so that he hovers above Steve’s pink face. He sends Steve’s shoulders bumping into the sides of his palms with every drag of their bodies. Despite that, despite the power in those snaps growing back to a fever pitch, Billy’s hands do not falter around his omega’s neck. Billy’s palms cradle that scared-prey of a pulse, and he has to bite the corner of his mouth to stifle his possessive growl. It still rumbles out from the bottom of his throat, and Steve’s body bows up with electricity. 

Like this, Steve changes their angle. Steve’s next moan, shocked out of him and almost a scream, rattles its cage against Billy’s hands. Billy knows this must be the spot, must be the sweetest angle. So he plants his knees and rolls his pelvis up at that slight angle to drive his swelling knot against Steve’s poor rim. He’s been riding on the slight bulge for a while now. Only now his body wants something to catch on, wants something to fill that hollow emptiness cock alone can’t satisfy. Steve jerks where Billy has him bent up caught between firm hips and tight hands. Steve has no choice but to gasp and cling to Billy’s wrists for dear life as each grueling drag of cock inside him drives him that much closer. Billy tastes it in the thick air between them. Him too.

If he were capable of words, he would serenade Steve into this first of many orgasms. Simper all sorts of filthy, sweet nothings. Billy is barely capable of remembering to slow his thrusts as Steve tightens around him, as his cock throbs with his knot. He spares a tiny glance down the omega’s body as they rock slowly together. Oh, his poor cock, lonely and half hard on his flat belly. A drooling mess, sure, but untouched. Billy can’t convince his rut-addled brain to shake a hand free from Steve’s straining throat to do anything about it. And Steve dropping his hands isn’t an option. Oh well. He’ll play with the omega’s cock all he wants after Steve catches on his knot. Won’t be long, now. Steve is a whimpering, gasping mess under Billy’s hands.

Billy’s voice tries to rumble its way out of his grinning lips, but it’s just a purr. Deeply satisfied and fully aroused, aiming to coax the omega over the edge with its vibrations. So proud of you, look at what you do to me, I know it hurts, I know you want to come, you can, I’ll let you, just a little more…

Watery eyes staring straight up at Billy’s wild stare, Steve mouths his name and begins to buck on his cock. Billy waits for the initial snaps of Steve’s body to pass before he grits his teeth, holds Steve still by the neck, and bullies his knot all the way inside the omega. Steve’s orgasm pulses around him, intensifying if Steve’s gasped wailing caught between Billy’s hands means anything. Steve jerks that much harder where he’s impaled. Caught. Clutch tight around Billy and finally filled like its always wanted. Tears leak from Steve’s eyes, clumping his thick lashes. Billy leans weight into his fingers pressed to the bed cradling Steve’s neck, uncaring how this tugs at his knot caught inside Steve to lap those tears up.

Steve mouths, ‘Alpha,’ up at him, and Billy gives him the comforting purr he knows Steve needs. So that Steve knows Billy is proud of him, that he’s been good, well-behaved, his perfect omega. Billy catches salt on his tongue even as Steve tries to turn his head to nuzzle him. A chirp demands his attention, and Billy meets soft lips when they angle up at him. He smirks lazy and mean into the kiss when he tightens his hands once more. Steve flinches against his lips and whines as best he can with so little air. When he wiggles on Billy’s knot, desperate for air, Billy lets him go for good. He savers Steve’s first, loud gasp of a breath.

Billy is sure he hasn’t come, though. His knot won’t go down so quickly after an orgasm. But right now he’s just caught in limbo with it heavy at the base of his cock. It hurts so much more like this, but Steve squeezing around him takes the edge off. He wants the omega to come again, to send those velvety walls clenching and snapping again. He needs the pressure, needs it or he’ll go crazy. So Billy smacks a hand in the center of Steve’s chest, intent on finally pinching those rosy nipples of his, while the other takes his spent cock in hand. Steve’s first orgasm already drools clear across his belly. 

A whine and then breathless, “Billy what?”

One of Steve’s hands, trembling like a fawn, reaches foolishly for Billy’s stroking hand. Billy doesn’t need a command to get Steve to stop. He snaps teeth at Steve’s forehead and growls properly this time. A warning his omega should behave and mind his manners. Steve flinches away like a dream, both hands flittering up like nervous moths to Billy’s shoulders. Steve holds him there while boyish hands torture him. They welcome him to the hidden pleasure in his chest. He stares down with huge eyes as Billy traces circles with an index finger around a soft nub. A dog chasing tails until his nipple hardens just enough to rise. It’s nothing for Billy to drum his fingers lightly over the nub—bump, bump, bump. And then a pinch. A roll.

Steve regains enough of his voice to groan low and soft, “Alpha.” He has some gravel in there, some of his tenor back. But it’s desperate and ready to throw itself into his high moans again. Billy will take him there.

Grin full of teeth, Billy manages a rough purr in Steve’s pink ear, “Omega, all mine.”

Steve’s cock and filled hole give a warning spasm. So close already, Billy has barely drawn his lazy fist over velvety flesh. Swirling his thumb on the underside of Steve’s blushing head, Billy switches nipples to repeat the process all over. Only this time, Steve shudders around him harder than before. Blue eyes eat up the way Steve stares down at his prick disappearing through and out Billy’s fist, gaze wondrous as Billy milks him a second time. Steve’s body shudders and bucks beautifully, instantly trying to stop thrusting in Billy’s hand. Overly sensitive. So fast and so soon. Maybe something Steve has never done before. A night of firsts.

Billy drops his hand from Steve’s twitching cock to hold him down and grind into him. He needs his own release, will take it from Steve, find it in Steve’s greedy clutch. Come twice now and still he doesn’t unlock from the heavy knot in him. A third time will probably have him coming dry or nearly. Billy grins nasty and mean above him, knowing that will send Steve into hysterics. Two orgasms a marvel, three a miracle too terrible to witness. Billy’s purr turns self-pleasing, delighted as he swipes his fingers through slippery come and then tucks those fingers between them. Grazing where they’re caught.

That first caress startles Steve so hard surely his heart skips a beat. He strains and struggles on Billy’s knot, caught between wanting to grind on it or scramble away from the alpha’s fingers. Billy’s right hand strikes out like a viper for the wave of Steve’s hair. His fingers tangle in it, cruel like a sailor’s net over a mermaid, and force Steve’s head back and deep into the pillow. The power behind Billy’s hips and mean hand leave Steve with no choice but to bow his chest up. Otherwise Billy will send him cracking into the headboard and fold him in half anyway.

Voice tight in his throat, Steve gasps, “Alpha,” as his hand foolishly reaches for Billy’s left slipped between their bellies.

Now, only now, does Billy’s voice take on that edge. Do not challenge me. You will listen and obey me, because it is for your own good and what you need. Do not fight me.

“No,” he commands low and slow, watches glaze slip into Steve’s eyes. “Hands above your head. Now.”

It’s the gentlest command he can manage, trying to wrangle the power back. Too much and he may drop Steve. The worst thing he could do. His voice is barely his own when it’s like this. It’s hard to recall even summoning the power to make the command, head too thick with rut to hold the memory. But Steve obeys like a dream, bares his neck as his wrists cross in the tiny space between the pillow and headboard. Steve is the image of Billy’s salvation or his destruction, he’s not sure, and he moans through the trailing edge of his command. Steve tightens like a vice around him. Closer. He needs more.

In his normal pleased-proud-want purr, he praises, “Good boy, my sweet omega.” His fingers pet that much harder around Steve’s stretched hole. They’re burning up together. “Just one more.”

The glaze in Steve's eyes is still thick for him. He shivers something awful and shakes his head, whimpering.

“N-no,” he whines, eyelashes clumped again. “N-no more, please alpha, hurts…”

“You gotta let me go first, baby,” Billy teases. It’s only now, locked in Steve and so close to the edge, that he finds the words he needs. Pushing the animal in him away if only to praise Steve through this third, terrifying orgasm. “I’ll help. Come one more time and I’ll be able to pop out of you. Just a little more…”

Billy rocks himself through that stretched rim and groans when he swipes fresh slick around. Even full and locked, Steve still leaks for him. But he’s taken everything Billy gave him so perfectly. No tears of pain, no begging for Billy to take his knot out. Too much, too much, hurts! He knew Steve would be perfect for him. He rubs his fingers that much harder, making sure to slide around as much as he can. A wild idea strikes the alpha’s rut-addled brain, an animal idea like watching Steve’s body clench on nothing, and Billy tears his hand away for a second. Only long enough to snatch one of Steve’s limp hands above his head and yank it down. He guides slim fingers to the omega’s own hole and lets Steve caress where they’re connected. To watch doe eyes flutter and well up again makes it all worth it.

“I’m so close,” Billy breathes. “You did this, baby, all you. You did this to me.”

Billy presses Steve’s fingers harder where he’s filled and drinks up the poor boy’s broken groan. He wants more, and Billy’s right hand still holding Steve down by a hip is more than happy to oblige. He’ll leave a bruise from bearing his weight down on Steve so he can snap his hips into Steve, knocking little whimpers out of him like before. Only now their fingers tracing maddeningly around, around, around make it much more real. This is happening to Steve, too late to turn back. He’s filled to the breaking point and has no choice but to accept every drop Billy is about to pump into him. Billy hovers close to see himself in the wet shine of Steve’s loopy eyes. Despite jarring Steve’s entire body with every pop, he holds that intense stare even when Steve’s roll back in his head. All breaths gone, just his body bucking as he comes again like a vice around his alpha’s knot.

Billy’s throat closes up around a word. Beautiful, maybe, or some praise. He can’t keep the growl out that tears through him and then melts into low moans when that tight clutch finally does it for him. Like someone has body slammed him and sent him flying, Billy floats through the rush of his orgasm. Distantly, his teeth ache to pin and bite, to feed his possessive noises into skin where they’ll live forever. He can’t move, though, not with his body tensing up all over as he gushes inside Steve at last. Neither of them can feel the disgusting, filthy flood of come, but Billy already can’t wait to watch it drip out of Steve. All so he can gather it up and feed it back into him. 

Heart beating in his ears, his lips, every inch of him, Billy hangs his head when his muscles finally unlock. His knot will do the same in a minute. Maybe sooner if Steve doesn’t stop squirming. Each time they mate after this, Steve will take his knot a little easier. With how ravenous Billy is for him, maybe he can get to the point of actually fucking Steve with it. He needs a breather, though, needs a break from all the heat under his eyes worse than a sunburn. Steve’s hand between them falls away with a tremble, plopping as deadweight beside him. Billy does want any of Steve going to waste, so he dares to sit up despite his knot about to pop out of Steve and snatches that hand back up. The fingers of his left hand end up sloppy and a little mean where they smear over Steve’s pink lips.

“Open,” he purrs.

And Steve does with a broken groan, parts his lips for Billy’s messy fingertips. He doesn’t need to be told to suck and lick them clean. Even when they are and Billy takes to just feeling the warm, wet inside him, Steve goes right on sucking. Billy gives Steve’s longer fingers the same treatment. Steve must be so far gone right now, not even on the same planet. Normally he would never hold such a molten, intense stare with Billy. Normal would be Steve bowing his head all shy and pretty like just how Billy loves. This is good, too, watching Steve’s lashes fall slowly in a lazy blink even as his head bobs a little on Billy’s fingers. Billy holds their stare long enough to pull Steve’s fingers from his mouth and then arch his hips back. He pops out of Steve with a shudder, a slick gush between them, and the omega’s body tries to curl up immediately.

The alpha’s purr is loud and proud when he just rolls Steve over to tend to his sore rim. Steve whines with his face buried in a pillow. Kicks his legs so petulant and bratty when Billy pries him open like so many times. Sure enough, his come already dribbles out of Steve. Can’t have that. Billy takes great, awful pleasure in scooping it all up, every drop, and sinking it all back inside Steve. Where it belongs, poor clutch empty again. Not for long, though, because Billy knows the heat of his rut will come bearing down on him again. And Steve’s body will be here for him to use. Soothe that terrible agony only an omega’s body can.

Billy’s fingers crook inside Steve despite him being all used up and exhausted. Steve tenses around him, but it’s a shadow of the vice that’d held Billy for so long. He’s too stretched out to keep Billy from petting past his resistance to where he drips wet with slick and come. Billy presses harder, pulls down on the red rim fighting him to watch the mess drool out. Teeth sink into the corner of Billy’s mouth as he groans. He knows it’s just another wild animal thing he enjoys. He spares a glance, almost guilty, up Steve’s body. The omega has his head turned to the side and breathes softly through a gap in his lips. No objections, no complaints. No asking his alpha to stop. 

Billy’s voice is barely language when he punches out, “Fuck,” and goes right on fingering Steve. He can’t get enough, knows he’ll need Steve’s body again in a matter of minutes. Rut relentless, he’ll fill Steve over and over as the late hours drag by. Hopefully Steve will let Billy just fuck him while the omega sleeps. That or Steve will stay awake for him, but Billy doubts it. Not out of spite or anger, no no, just… a first knot is exhausting. Steve is practically warm and soft with sleep right now. Let the boy sleep all pretty like this. Billy will take care of him. 

And gently urging Steve’s pliant, used body onto his back, Billy takes his burning cock in hand and reassumes his throne between Steve’s thighs. Doe eyes crack open so murky and wet, meet his, look down at his blushing prick, and then close. Steve’s thighs part that much more even though Steve’s strength is gone. Billy’s heart has never been lighter, never wanted someone like he wants Steve. And Steve will be his again and again, all night and into tomorrow. Billy eats up Steve’s sleepy groan when he plunges back inside. Music to his ears as he begins their dance all over again. 


	3. You Are My Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The word count break down went like this:  
> 1) 12,000~  
> 2) 25,000~  
> 3) 4,565  
> Oops
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, hope y'all had a good time. If you did, please leave a comment. Maybe click my name and check out the other Harringrove things I've written. Maybe check back here soon for more ABO. I've got two more one-shots finished. One uhhhh More Bad than the other. By a lot. You'll see. 
> 
> [@missraygillette](https://twitter.com/missraygillette) I tweet about things I'm working on. Come love these stupid boys with me.

Distant like a dream, Steve’s voice hot with anger and thick with sadness spears through Billy’s sleepy haze. 

“So that makes everything you said, it’s what? Just bullshit, too?”

Too much regret. To much distress already bleeding into his omega’s sweetness. So despite Billy’s lower back and thighs putting up a vigorous protest, he shoves himself off his belly and up. Steve is indeed gone, although the stink of them and his body heat in the sheets lingers. Thanks to the fog of his rut, Billy only remembers the first knot. He’d forced the memory past that murkiness so he can recall forever every reaction of Steve’s. A night of firsts. 

“Well, then tell me… That you love me!”

Billy’s hackles rise in the ensuing silence after Steve’s voice breaks a little. How it’s not entirely destroyed after last night, Billy isn’t sure. He just sees red when the displeasure of another alpha, the ice queen, spikes through Steve’s sorrow. He spares some of his ire for Steve, too. What’s all this about? Have Wheeler tell Steve she loves him? Like Steve doesn’t belong to him in every way but a mating mark? Billy almost regrets not pinning Steve down with his teeth. At least Wheeler must get a kick out of the gruesome love bites all over Steve’s neck. How there’s no possible way for Steve to cover up how he reeks of another alpha’s rut. Billy hadn’t stopped just because the omega passed out, hanging off his knot so pretty and whimpering in his sleep. Greedy even in dreams. 

More silence downstairs as Billy rises from their nest and marches to the top of the carpeted stairs. He has the perfect view of Steve in soft pants and a t-shirt. The clothes do a pitiful job of covering up how thoroughly used and claimed Steve is. Billy’s upper lip twists in a snarl. Steve is being extremely foolish and love-sick right now. Asking the bitch to confirm her love when he stinks like another alpha. When Steve knows at his core that Wheeler doesn’t love him at all. Had said as much last night on the verge of a drop. That she caused. Billy won’t feel the injustice for her, because she doesn’t deserve it. Especially not when Steve’s scent sours dangerously close to a drop all over again. Last night at the party comes rushing back to Billy, and his hand glides down the banister before he knows what he’s doing. 

Steve steps back from the door cracked open, dejected and oozing rejection, and says hoarse, “I think you’re bullshit.”

The slam of the front door echoes throughout the big, empty house. Billy is a wall of heat and power at Steve’s back as the omega hangs his head, leans his forehead against the door. They can’t have that. 

Big hands cup Steve over his cotton pants and coax him around. The polished, cherry wood behind Steve will not be kind to his back as Billy curls thick arms around Steve’s thighs and hoists him up. Steve grunts when he goes sliding up the carvings in his front door, rejection turning his eyes down and pouting his lips. At least his hands fly up to hold onto Billy’s shoulders. Billy nudges his way naked between Steve’s thighs where he belongs.

They must be sore from Billy’s constant attention all night. He’d slept for maybe thirty minutes at a time before fucking Steve clear through the night and day. Nap, fuck, nap, fuck. School is out. Billy wonders with only a slight plunge of dread if the school had called his house and questioned his whereabouts today. If maybe luck will be on his side and either Susan picked up or they got the machine. Billy already took scissors to the tape so it doesn’t record or play back, so…

“Hey,” he rumbles when Steve still won’t look at him, won’t nuzzle him back. “What was that all about?”

Doe eyes dark and unhappy flinch to his, but then Steve stares right back down at Billy’s jaw.

“Nothing,” he grunts. Lying. Hiding the truth.

Billy shuffles on his feet and leans his weight into Steve. Steve’s flinch has nowhere to go but into Billy’s skin. He must be sore from Billy’s rut. Billy can’t find it in himself to be sorry or apologize. Because he’s not.

Leaning more and more until he knows he’s squeezing Steve’s dick too tightly between them, eating up the omega’s squirming and wincing, Billy growls, “You’re lying. What did I say about lying?”

Steve’s eyebrows come together and his eyes pinch shut as he struggles with something. His hands at the broad shelf of Billy’s shoulder squeeze like a vice. Like he can carve his nails into Billy and never let go. Red marks over Billy’s upper back sting from kitten claws already. But he doesn’t grunt or wince when Steve irritates them. Instead, Billy shushes him and drags not-quite kisses up Steve’s short jaw. A shudder from his narrow chest beats against Billy’s—a scared animal giving its last death throes. Hopefully the last, blind, foolish affection for that bitch Wheeler taking its final breath. Billy has proven himself to be the better alpha. Steve already picked him anyway. Billy is sure of it, smelled and tasted it all over Steve last night and now.

Steve must come to terms with his struggle. He loops his arms around Billy’s neck and practically brains Billy right in the nose when he guides the alpha to his throat. Billy welcomes the roughness, though, and helps himself to lapping the sourness away from Steve’s scent. Careful, gentle flicks until the omega is sweet again, if a little melancholy. Billy will fix that, too, rocks slowly into Steve’s body. He’s hard where his dick surely leaves dots of moisture where it bounces along Steve’s ass. He’ll fuck Steve against this door if he has to, is already planning the logistics of tugging Steve’s pants down to get into that used clutch of his…

“Billy?” Steve says so soft and quiet into sandy curls.

Billy pauses his debauchery at the sound, mouths a kiss over Steve’s burning neck.

“Yea?”

Steve’s arms and legs tighten around Billy at the same time, seeking safety and support. Mercy in his time of uncertainty and unmooring.

“You want me, right? Like… we’re not gonna go back to school tomorrow and everything goes back to how it was, right?”

“Of course I want you,” Billy snaps fiercely, almost a snarl at Steve’s pulse. “You’re mine. I thought I made that clear.” He nips Steve’s jaw just under his ear to feel the omega shake against him. “And everybody’s gonna know you belong to me. Isn’t that right?”

Steve nods and just tightens his arms around Billy’s neck.

“Will you say it again? Please?”

Steve needs more tenderness now that Billy had thought. He goes soft and sweet—minus his heavy erection—against the omega and purrs at his neck. It’s just enough encouragement to get Steve to nuzzle and scent him back, marked cheek brushing Billy’s hair, his temples.

His voice is still thick with his purr when Billy murmurs, “I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone else, and I want everyone to know.” A slow kiss to Steve’s jaw and then, “I’m not going anywhere, pretty boy. You could skip town and I’d find you. There’s nowhere you could go that I couldn’t follow you. You’re mine, understand?”

Steve nods and doesn’t even need coaxing to croak, “Yours,” into Billy’s hair. He barks a self deprecating laugh and huffs, “I-I’m sorry, I just—”

“Hush,” he whispers in Steve’s ear. He takes to rocking between Steve’s thighs again and sighs when a pleased whine curls in Steve’s throat. “Explain it to me when you’re ready, you don’t gotta apologize. I know she hurt you real bad, baby.”

An awful shudder, full of remorse, bucks against Billy. Billy just presses Steve all the harder to his front door, doesn’t even feel Steve’s weight anymore.

Billy’s whisper is almost a growl when he husks, “Don’t think about her anymore. She’s not welcome here, not allowed to hurt or touch what’s mine ever again. I won’t let her, understand?”

Nodding, Steve’s thighs rub and squeeze where they’re hiked on Billy’s hips. Like the space between them isn’t already pressed out, like they aren’t belly to belly. Steve just wiggles anyway, and Billy hides a grin against his jaw. Steve must think he’s pretty dumb to not know what’s going on. Billy will indulge his omega nearly anything, though, and lets Steve slip a little down the door. Until the insistent poke of his hardon can no longer be ignored. Steve flinches and gives him a startled noise, exactly what Billy needs to fuel his filthy grin in the omega’s hair.

“Think she’s still out there? You slammed the door on her pretty hard, she doesn’t seem the type to give up.”

Steve shrugs and goes right on wiggling. Rubbing himself through his pants into hard abs.

“Maybe.”

Billy finally lets Steve feel his grin when he presses it to his jaw.

“Want me to fuck you against the door so she hears you scream? It’ll be a wild ride, satisfaction guaranteed.”

More wiggling, Steve practically humping Billy’s stomach. He doesn’t say anything. Just holds on tighter and nods over Billy’s shoulder. It’s a hazy thought to think Steve is still wet and ready from all the times Billy had taken him throughout the night. His rut isn’t all-encompassing anymore. He kept his voice and language the last two times knotting Steve’s sleeping body. They should probably talk about that, about everything, but Billy would rather just speak with his body. Steve’s a big boy. If he doesn’t like something or is uncomfortable, he needs to speak the fuck up. So that Billy can convince him everything is okay and they can continue just as they are now. Because Billy hates to be told no and not get his way, and he’ll have his fucking way with Steve.

Steve’s nod and the needy squirming is all Billy needs to let loose the reigns of his desire. He squashes Steve to the door to free a hand long enough to yank Steve’s cotton pants down his ass. Enough to not be in the way. Billy isn’t about to set Steve back to earth so the omega can peel them off, hell no. Fast and dirty against the door just to say, ‘Fuck you,’ to Wheeler. Billy’s rut-stink soaked into Steve’s skin, his hair, his everything isn’t enough of a middle finger. Billy does so hope she’s standing there, angry and annoyed at someone else sweeping Steve away. Annoyed at Steve for standing up for his feelings and putting his foot down. Billy chokes the air between them with his pride.

He snarls, “Jesus, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He finally snaps down the clingy waistband of Steve’s pants and starts rutting between his cheeks. Steve is already wet, and there’s nothing but their breaths to accompany the filthy sound of them. Not that Billy would spare Steve the embarrassment of hearing how wanton his body is for more. Billy catches on Steve’s loose rim and holds them there when he adds, “She doesn’t know how bad she fucked up, baby. My perfect omega.”

Steve’s weight works against him—or rather for him—if his punched-out moan means anything when Billy slides into him. It’s tricky without Billy sacrificing a hand to steady himself and push back on feeble resistance. Steve couldn’t hope to keep him out, though, and the omega’s body parts beautifully to be filled. Steve shudders hard where he’s caught between a rock and a hard place. Surely seeking validation, he wiggles and tries to fuck himself despite Billy’s iron-grip around his thighs. He isn’t going anywhere, is Billy’s play thing like this.

Billy sinks his teeth around a more-recent lovebite and flattens Steve to the door. His hips are the ones to roll down so he can thunder back inside Steve. Billy won’t let Steve move an inch on his cock. Billy is a grunting, groaning mess, louder than usual. But this isn’t for Steve. This is to serve his own purpose: to claim Steve in front of his failed alpha. Even if she’s not out there hating and loathing him, Billy’s spite is there in spirit. At school, he’ll make sure to stick to Steve like a burr so everyone—especially her—knows what’s happened. The possessive thrill of it washes over Billy with warmth and glee. He bites Steve that much harder, threatening blood. Threatening a mark. 

Without a shirt to protect him, Billy’s upper back accepts the scrambling nails that carve him up. Fresh welts on top of old. Let Steve mark him, too. Everyone at tryouts next week will see them. Even if they fade, Billy will make sure to renew them. He’ll wear them and any other mark with sick, sinful pride. Look at what this spoiled omega has done. Shredded his alpha to ribbons, bitten him to blood, so no one else can have him. Billy smashes Steve harder to the door, leaning fully into him so even gasping for air is a struggle. Steve’s weak thrashing against him, clutch still sucking him down, just fuels Billy to fuck him harder.

It takes nothing to slide Steve that much farther down the door and bounce the omega on his cock. He’s already painful and heavy at the base, waiting to lock into Steve as long as his used hole will catch. Steve must know it’s already coming, Billy eager even past the height of his lust. Steve’s arms are tight around the alpha even though Steve’s body jars with each slap of pelvis into his ass. It’s all he has to hold on, and Billy’s neck is the perfect place to bury his needy whines and breathy pleas for more, harder, right there, don’t stop. Between Billy’s hips pistoning away and Steve’s back rocking into cherry wood, they rattle the door in its frame. It’s decent percussion for the symphony of wanton calls pouring out of Steve. All for his alpha. 

Words popping out to the rhythm of Billy fucking loud and filthy into him, Steve begs, “Pl-ease, oh god, I wanna come, oh al-pha, make me come, need it.”

His knot is heavy enough, Steve loose enough, for Billy to give it to him. He groans all punched out and arching onto his toes, “Good boy,” while squeezing every thick inch of him into Steve. The high whine in his ear is just icing on the cake as his omega spasms around him, tight clutch trying to milk him. Billy pants over all his marks in Steve’s neck and snaps at his pulse again. He calls up more blood under porcelain and dares to prick his teeth there. Steve bucks like a wild animal, nearly screeching over Billy’s shoulder. His body throbs that much tighter around Billy stuffed into him, making the alpha’s head swim, and Billy buries his groan in Steve’s skin when he comes. 

Voice broken all over again, Steve pants, “Oh god,” and drags his nails one more time in Billy’s back. Billy doesn’t even notice the pain, senses buzzing too hard as he fills his omega again. The mess will drip and leak the moment he pops out, and Billy hopes they leave a puddle when they stumble back upstairs. If they get that far and Billy doesn’t collapse right now. He leans his full weight into Steve again and rides the pulsing heat around him. Steve’s body fights him, almost too full to come, and it drags his orgasm out longer. He should have fucked Steve against a wall sooner. It’s a high that hits harder, lasts longer until he’s spitting dry buried where he belongs. All for Steve, every last drop. 

“Mmm,” he purrs floaty and so deeply pleased at the mess he’s made of Steve. He’ll do it all over again just like last night. He can’t get enough of the omega dripping with him. “How’s that feel, baby? Think you’ve taken more knots asleep than awake at this point.”

Steve just groans over Billy’s shoulder. Unseen, but he cannot hide the burst of satisfaction and pride that tickles Billy’s nose. He cranes his head down to lap it at the source, and his eyes roll back in his head when Steve snaps tightly around him again. He would stumble if he wasn’t already smashing Steve to the door. Steve will need new pants—or none at all if Billy gets his way—when they’re cleaned up. He’s made a damp spot in the grey cotton where he came trapped in them. Billy gives a deeply satisfied sigh in the crook of Steve’s neck. He wonders how many times he made Steve come just on his knot, never even fondling the omega’s pretty cock. He would make it up to Steve, but an orgasm is an orgasm, and he saw to Steve’s pleasure plenty. Steve won’t be able to walk when Billy’s rut finally eases off later tonight. 

Somehow Billy can still walk, though, and he proves it when he rocks them off the front door. His arms only shake a tiny bit—to him it’s a tiny bit—when he takes Steve’s full weight. Steve startles and jumps hard enough to pop Billy out of him, and they fill the foyer with their mutual groans. Immediately, Billy knows slick and come trickle down Steve’s thighs. If he strains his ears through their panting, he thinks he can hear the patter of drops hitting the floor. Perfect. The smell will linger even after Billy has to leave. Oh fuck, his car…

Billy grumbles with his jaw hooked over Steve’s shoulder. That’s right, he’d left it across town. He should probably deal with that soon. Peel himself from between Steve’s thighs for a damn second. It will take some convincing. Steve owes him a ride back to whoever’s house—Tonya? Theresa? Whatever—and that way they’ll be together. It’s easy to just slot Steve into his life and carve out a space for the omega at his right side. Billy could even make a workout of carrying this lanky boy up stairs. Steve’s weight is good resistance.

Plus, when he’s not fucked out and practically drooling on Billy’s shoulder, he’d probably be amused at this. And the few times Steve has laughed around him… it’s nice. At some point, Steve was a carefree boy. Maybe a little lonely, looking for love and validation in all the wrong places. Billy understands him better than anyone. Maybe now with a better alpha Steve will laugh and smile more. Stop walking around with a miasma of melancholy and rejection. Billy will never deny him. 

At Steve’s end of the hall, Billy doesn’t carry Steve into his room. The bathroom across the way is his angle, and Steve barely gives him a grunt when Billy shoulders on the light. He has to put Steve down at some point, and the edge of the tub seems like a good idea. Close enough to the floor for Steve to safely slip and better than setting his wet ass on the closed toilet. Just more mess Billy won’t be in charge of cleaning up. Steve doesn’t even know about his slick-stained bedsheets yet, so…

Curtain shoved back and spray beating on the tiles of the wall, Billy tugs Steve back to his feet before the room can start to fog up. He’s not exactly keen on washing himself off Steve. But if anyone is going to do it, it’ll be him. Not that he’ll neglect any part of Steve just to leave alpha stink on him, no, Billy would just rather tend to Steve himself. It’s more than anyone else has done for Steve until now. Jokes about Steve being spoiled aside—he is—he’s missing out on that tender loving and care. He does a perfectly good job on his own, because what other choice has anyone given him? None. Billy understands that better than anyone. 

Poking Steve in the chest to stop him from listing forward on his feet, Billy murmurs, “If you fall, I’m not picking your slippery ass up. So think twice.”

Mouth screwing up in a grimace-pout, Steve cracks an eye open. 

“You did this,” he points out with petulance aplenty and a croak in his voice. “Take responsibility, dick.”

He considers, just for a second, being mean and leaving Steve in the cold corner of the shower. But only for a second before he scoops Steve up around his waist and dragging him forward on coltish legs. Billy doesn’t mind the inch difference in their heights as he leans into Steve’s space, intent clear. He pauses just on the cusp of that pout and starts to grin when he catches Steve staring down at his mouth. Billy licks his lips for good measure and allows Steve to be the one to close the gap between them. He even plays nice and tilts his head so their noses only squish a little against the other’s cheek. It’s worth it to feel Steve’s groan, rolling and deep in his throat, tingle where their lips meet all plush and soft. 

It’s a chaste thing, though. Billy has dragged them here instead of Steve’s big bed so they can wash and refresh. Not that he won’t take advantage while washing Steve. It’s him after all. So they separate without much fuss, with Steve taking maybe half a step forward to steal more kisses, and then Billy pokes him in the chest again to nudge him back. His smirk is pleased with the flush in Steve’s cheeks and how the omega looks away. He can’t hide under his hair with it waterlogged and flat. 

“You know,” Billy drawls. “I don’t think I’ve ever kissed someone so much while fucking them. Or not fucking them, I guess.”

A frown. 

“Does it matter?”

And Billy already feels along the tense thread of that line of questioning. So he leans back in and kisses that frown away. 

“Do you hear me complaining?” He asks with a cocked eyebrow, their lips brushing when he speaks. “I’m just making friendly conversation, baby. Don’t worry about it.”

Steve’s mouth screws up again, vulnerable, and he grumbles, “Sorry…”

“Hey. Look at me.”

He could easily command Steve. Make the omega stop with this attitude and force him pliant and loopy against the wall. It would be easy. He wants Steve to give that to him, though. Anything is easy enough to take. Steve listening and obeying without hesitation, though? That’s Billy’s bread and butter, and he rewards such attentiveness with a rush of pride-content until Steve’s relaxes again. When those slim shoulders had started to climb, Billy isn’t sure. He’s just happy to see tension drain like someone popped a stopper in Steve. Still, old habits die hard, and Billy backs Steve one step into the wall. The spray hits them from the side and keeps them warm. 

Steve gives him a little grunt and frown again when his back hits the tiles. More kisses and pressing their bodies together to soothe that all away. More contentment from Billy, proud of Steve and pleased. Encouragement. Steve relaxes again between a rock and a hard place. He even scoots his feet apart on wet tiles to welcome Billy back. The alpha takes Steve up on that with a purr tickling between them. All the encouragement he can muster to let Steve know he’s doing good, his alpha is pleased, this behavior is to be rewarded. It’s instinct for Billy, and eventually he’ll mold Steve into that role. The corners of Billy’s mouth give a wicked tug. He starts to stir between them. 

Pulling back with a whine from Steve, not ready to stop, Billy husks, “You ever fucked in the shower?”

A sputter and nervous laughter before, “N-no, that’s dumb.”

Billy just hums and drops to his knees, teeth snapping at the softness just below Steve’s navel. He catches the omega’s startled flinch with big hands cupping his upper thighs and digging into the muscles there. 

“I bet I can change your mind,” he says with his head tilted up, eye contact burning and bright when he laps at the base of Steve’s cock. “Wanna bet?”

Steve chews on his lower lip with his hands already shyly reaching for Billy’s wet hair. The alpha can deny Steve nothing and so leans his head into those palms when they cradle him. 

“What’s the wager?”

Billy hums, pretending to think about it. His grin so close to Steve’s semi is dangerous and full of teeth. Full of promises. 

“I bet I can make you come just from eating your ass.”

The bright pink that splotches on Steve’s cheeks has nothing to do with the steam from the shower. 

Head tilted the other way, Billy adds, “If you do, you drive me back to my car.”

Swallowing hard and almost twitching against Billy’s jaw, Steve stutters, “And uh what if I-what I I don’t?”

Billy shrugs. 

“Then I guess I spin you back around and fuck you against another wall, huh?”

He does so love to watch Steve squirm. Maybe if Steve didn’t react so deliciously, maybe he never would have caught Billy’s eyes. Maybe. 

Steve has to try a few times to get his mouth to work, licking his lips too much. 

“O-okay, but you can’t use anything else! Only your mouth!”

“You say that like it’s a handicap, pretty boy.” Billy waggles his eyebrows up at Steve and adds his own condition. “You’re not allowed to play with yourself. Hands on the wall, or else. Got it?”

This next swallow is the hardest of them all, and Steve nods with pink climbing higher and deeper in his face. Billy smacks an obnoxious kiss to Steve’s erection, because he can, and then he squeezes Steve’s thighs before slapping them. Just for the sting in his palms and to watch Steve jump onto his toes, hissing. 

“Hop to it then. And I mean it about those hands, you will regret it.”

Steve’s grumbled, “Yea, yea,” is good-natured. Bratty, but he does as he’s told. Billy rewards him with grabby, feisty hands on pert cheeks. Instead of harsh slaps to the plush, bottom curve. That’s for later. He’s toyed with the idea between bouts of mindlessness during his rut. Just hauling Steve over a thigh with a mean hand on the back of the omega’s neck and leaving brutal handprints on his ass and thighs. And Steve will cry so sweetly and shake in his alpha’s lap with hot tears. And Billy will shush and pet them all away, cooing softly how perfect Steve is, how proud Steve makes him. His sweet omega. 

It’s one of many experiences he wants to mention casually, catalogue Steve’s reaction, and then work him up to all of them. Steve will give him everything. Billy doesn’t need to take it, because Steve will hand over every piece of himself. He’ll have every part of Steve. Because Billy will bite and scratch and fuck to have his fill of Steve. Every little bit about him belongs to Billy, now, and Steve will see him. And Steve will know him. 


End file.
